


Leave My Kitten Alone

by Lunadeath02



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Attempt at Humor, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Magic Revealed, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-07-29 13:38:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 25,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7686658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunadeath02/pseuds/Lunadeath02
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prince Arthur doesn't understand why he's having these strange pains in his chest. Is it really love or indigestion? To make matters worse, a lord from Mercia has taken a shine to Merlin and wants to make him his own. It's bad luck that Arthur may have to part ways with his manservant right as they discovered their true feelings for each other. And then there's a magic reveal...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My first Merlin fanfic (but not my actual first fanfic). The title for this fic is a Beatles song, which is located on the Anthology volume one. The two episodes at the end of series 2 are being excluded. (Morgana’s still around, and I guess so is the dragon) In other words, this was written after series two (so no Gwaine, I'm sorry to say). It had been edited since then, though, before I posted it here. Please understand that being my first Merlin fic, it may feel “different” than my other works. I have matured a lot as a writer since then.

Leave My Kitten Alone – part 1/4

Warnings & contents: canon AU, Arthur POV mostly, magic reveal, attempts at humor, will have some violence, angst, and protective Arthur.

 

 

~**~

 

          There it was again: that strange, fluttery ache in his chest. All he did was walk into his bedchamber, earlier than planned, and noticed that a hot bath had been drawn and his dinner was on the table waiting for him. He rubbed his chest, right over his heart, but it wasn't going away. There must be something fatally wrong with him; he was either ill or dying. He had to see Gaius.

 

          Being the prince had many advantages. Like, say, entering without knocking. Well, it _was_ an emergency!

 

          "Gaius!" Arthur called out as dignified as he could, and hopefully not sounding too much in a panic.

 

          Gaius had been poring over a large tome of some sort when he barged… no, announced himself elegantly inside, but Gaius shut the book hastily. He decided to ask on it later, there were more important things to worry about. His failing health, for one.

 

          "What can I do for you this evening, sire?"

 

          "I need your help," Arthur blurted, hands on hips.

 

          The wizened, old court physician took off his reading glasses and gave the prince The Eyebrow. Great, now Gaius was doing it to him besides Merlin! And there was that annoying, fluttery ache again.

 

          "What do you wish of me, sire?" Gaius asked.

 

          "I need you to give me a check-up."

 

          Gaius' other eyebrow joined the first, clearly shocked by Arthur's request. "You actually want me to give you a check-up? You must not be feeling well, sire; it usually takes your father's prodding to convince you to have your annual check-up."

 

          Arthur sighed. "I know this, Gaius. But I seriously think something's wrong with me."

 

          Gaius nodded sagely. "All right. Have a seat, and I'll see what I can do. Now, tell me," he started looking in Arthur's eyes the moment Arthur sat down, pulling down the bottom lids one at a time, "what's ailing you, sire?"

 

          "Well, for starters, my chest," Arthur began.

 

          "Mmhmm," Gaius said, looking in Arthur's ears next.

 

          "It… I get these… sharp pangs."

 

          "I see." Gaius moved to Arthur's nose, and then made him open his mouth and looked in as if he were a damned horse!

 

          "Gaius," he snapped, jerking his head away, "my ailment is not in my throat or anywhere near my head, it's my chest area! So get on with it."

 

          "Sometimes, your Highness, pains in one area of the body are because of another. I've had a patient the other day complaining of headaches, and the problem had been in his back and neck." Then Gaius gave him a Look. "You do wish me to do my job properly, do you not, sire?"

 

          Arthur sighed, somehow feeling like a child getting disciplined. "Of course I do, Gaius, I just wish to know what's wrong with me, and soon. My father is having a banquet tonight for some Lord from Mercia and I need to be in the best of health. It won't do to show a weakness of any sort to him; it could ruin any negotiations."

 

          "I understand perfectly, my Lord. Now, take your shirt off."

 

          Arthur did as asked (he thought of it as 'asked' and _not_ as if it were an order) and allowed Gaius to listen to his heartbeat and his breathing.

 

          "When have these pains started, sire?"

 

          "Um, not sure of the exact day, but recent."

 

          "How often do you have them?"

 

          "A few times a day."

 

          "Are they harsh? Average? Light?"

 

          "Sometimes harsh, but usually average."

 

          Gaius looked Arthur in the eye. "What are you doing when these pains happen, sire?"

 

          Arthur thought back to the most recent activities he'd done when his chest would constrict. "Well, nothing out of the ordinary. Except…" Arthur bit his lip as another tightening in his chest occurred from a single, seemingly innocent thought. He placed a hand over his heart.

 

          "All right, sire?" Gaius asked worryingly.

 

          "Yes. I was only going to say that the pains usually happen when I'm around _Merlin_ … but at times they happen when he's not near me."

 

          Gaius was suddenly looking very concerned, and it worried Arthur even more. "What are you doing when he's not around, sire?"

 

          "Nothing different. Why, just before I came to see you all I did was walk into my chambers."

 

          "And what was inside your chambers when you walked in?"

 

          "The usual--well, when Merlin's doing his job correctly--my dinner, a warm bath, the bed sheets turned down…"

 

          Something in Gaius' eyes changed, as if he could see the 'aha!' moment happening in the court physician's eyes.

 

          "Tell me, sire," Gaius said slowly. "Are you having troubles eating or sleeping?"

 

          "Yes," Arthur replied slowly. "I suppose so. Well, I'm eating, but less than usual."

 

          "And sleeping less than usual?" Gaius' eyebrow made another appearance.

 

          "I suppose… why, what does any of that have to do with the pains?" Arthur's voice was a little snippy, but the court physician ignored it.

 

          "Been feeling light-headed sometimes when Merlin's around?"

 

          "Uh, yeah. A bit." He admitted with pink cheeks.

 

          "Sweaty palms? Nervous jitters?"

 

          It was Arthur's turn to raise an eyebrow. "Not all the time. Gaius, what are exactly are you on about?"

 

          Gaius straightened, and the worried expression on his face changed quickly to amusement. Arthur didn't see what was so funny with his situation.

 

          "I'm happy to announce, sire, that you're not dying, nor are you ill."

 

          "You sure?" Arthur asked, because it was imperative that he knew the truth. "You're not just sugar-coating it, are you?"

 

          "No, sire. What you're suffering from is something anyone can get, and there is no cure. Except for maybe death."

 

          "Okay, now you're not making any sense, Gaius," Arthur rumbled, standing up. "In Anglo-Saxon, if you please!"

 

          "Simply put, your Highness: you're in love."

 

          Arthur stared at Gaius in disbelief before bursting out laughing, head thrown back. "Surely you jest! There is no way in Heaven or Hell that I am _in love_! I don't have time for that stuff. It's… it's unthinkable! To be even entertaining the idea would mean that the person that I'm in love with would be…" Arthur froze, reality slowly seeping into his bones, not to mention his soul. "Bloody hell…"

 

          Gaius was smirking, nodding his head in a knowing way, and Arthur was tempted to put the old man in the stocks for looking so damn smug.

 

          "Merlin," was all Gaius had to say and Arthur's heart leapt.

 

          Arthur slowly sank back down into the chair. "Merlin," he whispered, burying his face into his hand. "Oh, hell, what am I to do, Gaius? I can't be… with my own _manservant_? How did this happen?"

 

          "It strikes when we least expect it, sire," Gaius said sympathetically.

 

          Arthur was quiet for a while, mind in overdrive, and then said, "Are you sure it isn't a spell? I could be under an enchantment."

 

          Gaius' face turned serious again. "A love spell or potion would be possible, but there is a simple test for you, sire."

 

          "What would that be?" Arthur gave the old man his undivided attention now.

 

          With a slight smile, Gaius asked, "Do you still consider Merlin an idiot?"

 

          Arthur's brow furrowed. "Yes, of course he's still an idiot, and a completely insubordinate servant! Why, what's that prove?"

 

          "That proves that you're not under a love spell. If you were, then even thinking of Merlin as an idiot would be incomprehensible to you. All sense leaves our heads the minute we become ensorcelled with the spell. When it's love, real love, we usually take the bad with the good. In other words, you love Merlin despite his failings, and even if some of those failings can be downright annoying at times, you still wouldn't change them for the world."

 

          His response to Gaius' explanation was reasonable: he buried his face in both hands and murmured in a wretched tone, "I'm doomed."

 

          "Now, sire, don't despair," Gaius patted Arthur on the shoulder in a grandfatherly manner. "I'm sure that Merlin feels… well, I'm not positive he feels the same, but I'm sure that he doesn't hate you."

 

          "'Course he doesn't hate me," Arthur sat up straighter, royalty bleeding out of every pore in his skin. "I am the Crown Prince, after all."

 

          Gaius grumbled something, but Arthur didn't catch it. Before he could ask Gaius to repeat himself, the door burst open.

 

          "There you are!" Merlin huffed, sounding righteously disgruntled. "You know I had to re-heat your bath _and_ your dinner? And you call _me_ incompetent!"

 

          Arthur stared at Merlin, not sure if he should be more angry with Merlin's tone in addressing him that way or pleased with how well Merlin's been serving him this evening by re-heating both food and bath water. He was also dumbstruck, only slightly, because the moment his eyes met Merlin's that funny, achy feeling was in his chest again and he had to grip the end of the hand rest to keep himself from clutching his chest.

 

          Finally, he found his voice, after Merlin lifted an eyebrow that he most likely learned from the court physician.

 

          "Right, well, at least you got that much right today. And do I have to remind you that you can't speak to me in that manner? Do I have to continue putting you in the stocks before it finally sinks into that thick skull of yours?"

 

          "The stocks don't bother me anymore," came Merlin's defiant reply. "Other than that, you'd get bored of me if I was too compliant." Then Merlin grinned that ridiculous grin of his and Arthur was completely, utterly lost.

 

          He stood from the chair, stepping closer to Merlin, and forced himself not to blush as he looked his manservant in the eye. "Wait for me in my bedchambers."

 

          He heard Gaius give a little cough.

 

          "Why?" asked Merlin.

 

          "Don't question me, Merlin, just do as I say! I have some services that I would like you to perform."

 

          Gaius coughed again, louder, and this time Arthur did blush. But Merlin didn't notice because he turned his head toward Gaius in worry.

 

          "Are you all right, Gaius?"

 

          "I'm fine, Merlin," said Gaius quickly. He didn't turn around, however, and busied himself with filling some bottles of medicine. Arthur recognized one as the sleeping draught that Morgana sometimes needed.

 

          "If you're sure," said Merlin, still looking wary.

 

          "He's sure, Merlin," Arthur said. "Now get your skinny arse to my rooms and wait for me. I'll be there in a bit."

 

          Merlin sighed, annoyed, but did as told for once. With a roll of his eyes and a soft "Yes, sire" he was gone.

 

          Arthur turned to Gaius the moment Merlin was out the door.

 

          "That was not in the least bit amusing, Gaius."

 

          "I have no idea what you mean, sire."

 

**

 

          Lord Hector was the one that was coming from Mercia, and Uther was hoping some negotiations could be worked out between the two kingdoms so that there wasn't any necessary bloodshed. Arthur had never met this Lord Hector, and he wondered if his father ever had, but that didn't matter much; the only thing that truly mattered was keeping some kind of peace between them and Camelot. Although, Mercia was still very much at odds with them, so far they hadn't gone into a full-scale war.

 

          The main reason he sent Merlin to his room was so that he could help prepare him in the upcoming banquet. He tried to keep his emotions in check as Merlin slowly undressed him, his slim yet strong fingers easily undoing every string and buckle expertly. Arthur kept his eyes on the wall behind Merlin, a point right above Merlin's shoulder, and chin raised as he waited patiently for Merlin to finish. He was stripped down to his shorts, and he knew that he must be blushing, but Merlin didn't comment. Merlin's fingers were warm, shaky, as he helped him into a clean uniform for the banquet tonight (after he had a quick bath). Arthur's eyes shifted from the wall to a location somewhere on the side of Merlin's head, trying not to look directly into Merlin's face.

 

          "Do as you're told this evening, and maybe I'll let you have the rest of the night off."

 

          "Not a very promising incentive," Merlin quipped. "All I really do afterwards is dress you for bed and blow out the candles."

 

          "And no insubordination during the banquet either. We need to make a good impression on Lord Hector."

 

          "All this for a man you or your father has never met."

 

          "I don't know if my father doesn't knows him, actually, but that doesn't matter. If we're lucky, we'll be able to form a truce with Mercia, if only a shaky one. Less bloodshed is a good thing in your book, is it not, Merlin?"

 

          "Of course, sire," Merlin gritted out. "Less bloodshed is always a good thing. Will he be coming alone, do you think?"

 

          Finally fully dressed, Arthur put on the finishing touches with his rings, and then looked into the mirror to assess how his hair fell about his head. When straightening a few strands didn't do the trick, Arthur just shook his head a few times and smiled when they fell exactly into place. How could any Lord or Lady resist him?

 

          "I haven't a clue, Merlin," he finally answered. "But I wouldn't mind if he brought along a Lady of the court."

 

          He heard Merlin sigh heavily. "Naturally. And you're hoping to charm her to pieces then, are you?"

 

          "She wouldn't be able to resist," Arthur preened, and then winked at his own reflection. Out of the corner of his eye in the mirror he saw Merlin roll his eyes. "Oh, don't deny it, Merlin. I know you find me irresistible." This time he winked at Merlin's reflection.

 

          Were those red spots he saw in Merlin's cheeks? No. It must be a trick of the light.

 

          "You wish, sire," Merlin retorted.

 

**

          Lord Hector did not bring along anyone else; he was alone. It made Arthur feel slightly edgy, and not because Lord Hector didn't bring a Lady with (he was actually glad). Usually when they entertained Lords from other kingdoms there were at least two and one servant, but usually more than that. Lord Hector didn't even bring along a manservant. It screamed too much like 'spy' or 'rabble-rouser' to him. Then again, he could just be paranoid.

 

          Hector wasn't really a handsome man. The nobleman was rather large, a stomach that looked as though he ate roast turkeys whole (and he felt really bad for his horse). He also kept his hair long, as well as his beard and mustache, and he conducted himself in a very slimy, shifty way. Uther either didn't seem to notice this, or he was hiding it well as he greeted Hector. Arthur stood stiffly by his father's side, trying to stay as formal as possible and not let his discontent or contempt show.

 

          "Glad you could come, Lord Hector," Uther greeted him regally. It had to be an act. If Arthur could see the deceitfulness in Lord Hector then surely his father could.

 

          "It is a pleasure to be here, your Majesty," Hector swept a low, showy bow. "I do hope that I'm not late."

 

          "On the contrary, Lord Hector, you're right on schedule. I trust your trip was a pleasant one?"

 

          "Immensely, sire," Hector buttered up.

 

          "It must have been quite a lonely ride, though. You haven't brought a servant or Lady with."

 

          Staying in his 'kissing the king's arse' voice, Hector said, "It was rather lonely, sire, but they could not be spared for we are preparing for a big celebration of sorts. Every hand was needed to get things ready."

 

          "I quite understand, Lord Hector," said Uther. Slowly they made their way back inside the castle.

 

          "This must be your adoring son," Lord Hector suddenly said as Arthur turned to obediently follow his father. The party stopped to address the matter.

 

          "Yes, this is my son Arthur, Crown Prince," Uther said.

 

          Lord Hector gave Arthur a low bow as well, eyes staying on Arthur's face as he did so. "Sire."

 

          Arthur bowed slightly in acknowledgement, brow furrowed as he tried keeping his disdain from showing too much. "You're very welcome here, Lord Hector."

 

          Merlin had kept to the shadows a few steps behind Arthur, and Arthur was thankful that Lord Hector hadn't noticed him. He wasn't sure why he felt that way, and it made him pause in thought. He didn't have long to dwell on it, however, because they were walking inside again toward the Great Hall.

 

**

 

          The long table was groaning from the weight of all the food and drink, and filled with Lords and Ladies with their servants just a few feet behind them, ready to serve. When Merlin leaned over Arthur's shoulder to refill his goblet with wine, he felt the heat radiating off Merlin's skin – his neck, jaw, cheekbone – and smelled a slight musky, clean scent coming from him. Arthur's nostrils flared as he took it all in, feeling heat filling his belly.

 

Lord Hector sat on the other side of Morgana, who was seated at Uther's left and looking like she had swallowed a rather sour grape. Arthur raised a mocking toast in her direction, and she responded with a withering glare. Although, it was nice to see he wasn't the only one that took an instant dislike to Lord Hector. The man was trying too hard to be smooth and gentlemanly, but he and Morgana could see right through it.

 

          Again, it seemed that his father hadn't caught the same eerie vibe from Lord Hector like his son and ward had. Either that, or he was a better actor than Arthur gave him credit for.

 

          "How long do you plan on staying here, Lord Hector?" Uther asked before taking a bite of his venison.

 

          "I do hope I could stay for at least a week, my Lord," replied Hector, smile oily and creepy.

 

          Arthur and Morgana exchanged a shared look of displeasure as Arthur took a long, slow pull from his goblet. Standing a few feet behind Morgana, Arthur could see Gwen looking troubled as well. Perhaps he should visit the ladies later tonight and discuss their mutual dislike of Hector.

 

          "You can have the guest room across from Arthur's chambers," announced Uther, and Arthur nearly choked to death on his wine. As he sputtered and coughed, Merlin was right there pounding helpfully on his back.

 

          "Thank you, sire!" Lord Hector simpered. "You do me great honors."

 

          Morgana threw Arthur a smug look, apparently pleased that she won't get saddled with seeing Hector in the halls where her chambers were. The bitch. She was supposed to be on his side for once!

 

          "I've heard you've acquired yourself a nickname," his father suddenly said, actually looking amused.

 

          "I did indeed, sire," Hector chuckled. "They call me The Bulldog."

 

          "And why is that?" said Uther, sounding genuinely curious.

 

          "I'm not entirely sure, sire," Hector smirked. "But I think it has something to do with the fact that once I get my jaws into someone or something I don't let go. Ever." And then, to Arthur's horror, Hector's eyes suddenly shifted from Uther's face to a point just above Arthur's right shoulder. Feeling despondency build in his gut, Arthur slowly looked over his shoulder to see Merlin standing there still holding the decanter and staring back at Hector in confusion.

 

**

 

          "You're staying here tonight," Arthur announced after locking his chamber door.

 

          Merlin had the gall to look confused. "What?"

 

          "You heard me, Merlin, and don't you dare disobey me this time." Like clockwork, Merlin was there to help undress him, although he did promise Merlin the rest of the night off if he behaved himself. Not that he was complaining. Merlin's fingers brushing against his skin was like a hot poker stroking glowing embers, leaving fiery trails in their wake.

 

          "All because Lord Hector gave me a funny look?" Merlin huffed. "I can take care of myself."

 

          "I very much doubt that, Merlin," Arthur replied without thinking. "You can barely use a sword, much less defend yourself against big Lords like Hector. You did hear what he said, yes?"

 

          "Yes, but that doesn't mean he'll get his way," said Merlin, so defiant and steadfast. No wonder Arthur loved him so.

 

          No, he wasn't going to think that; it only led to more chest pains.

 

          "I'm not taking any chances. The fat 'bulldog' is sleeping right across the hall, and I'm sure he won't try anything as long as you're in here with me. If you were to sleep in your own chambers, I'm sure he would find a way to sneak in and force you to do God knows what disgusting acts."

 

          "You know, this may come as a surprise to you," Merlin said with impertinence, "but I really can defend myself."

 

          "Against that brute?" Arthur scoffed. "The only thing that could possibly help you against him would be magic, maybe, and even if you can do that you'd get in trouble for it…" He trailed off and eyed Merlin peculiarly when Merlin wouldn't meet his gaze. "Merlin?"

 

          "Yeah, I get it; I'd lose my head."

 

          Merlin behaved very oddly after that, but he had a feeling that no matter how hard he would push there was no way Merlin would tell him. After they both prepared themselves for bed, Arthur was surprised to see Merlin laying out a blanket on the floor, and it wasn't a very soft looking blanket either.

 

          "What _are_ you doing?" he demanded.

 

          "I'm… getting ready for bed," Merlin said slowly, as if Arthur were a four year old.

 

          "You're not sleeping on the floor," Arthur exclaimed, and as he said this he felt that familiar pang in his chest again. "You're coming into my bed where I can keep an eye on you."

 

          Merlin looked rather put upon, which confused Arthur further. Anyone would be honored to share a bed with the Crown Prince, especially servants. And although the reason behind him making Merlin stay in his bed was sound, the other more selfish reason was glowing in the back of his mind.

 

          "What if someone found out?" Merlin asked stupidly as he finally climbed under the covers beside Arthur.

 

          "I'll just tell them the truth," said Arthur, snuggling further into the silk sheets.

 

          "What truth?" Merlin asked, still sitting up and blinking oddly down at him. His borrowed nightshirt looked much too big for Merlin, but Arthur opted not to comment, this time.

 

          "That I'm protecting your maidenly virtue from the big, bad Lord Bulldog. Now snuff out the candle and go to sleep, Merlin." Arthur rolled onto his side, back facing Merlin, because he was sure he couldn't control himself if he were facing his servant. His body was strung so tight he was vibrating.

 

          He heard Merlin let out an annoyed sigh and did as asked before situating himself down in the bed.

 

          "Good night, sire."

 

          Arthur inhaled sharply, his body thrumming from just the feel of Merlin's body being mere inches away from his and the warmth radiating between them, soaking into the sheets.

 

          "Good night, Merlin."

 

***

 

          At the crack of dawn, Arthur slowly woke to the sounds of someone moving around in his room. Instinctively, he reached out for the body he was sure to find, his mind just remembering that Merlin stayed in his bed last night, but he found nothing but slightly cooling sheets. He blearily opened his eyes to see Merlin setting out his breakfast, which looked to be more than one person could eat, and then walked across the room to open the curtains and let even more light pour in.

 

          "Good morning, sire!" Merlin said in a tone that Arthur thought warranted too much glee. It was too fucking early for niceties.

 

          "Do you really expect me to eat all that?" was his groggy, good morning greeting.

 

          Merlin kept his too cheery smile. "I took the liberties of expecting you to order me to eat in here with you, in case Lord Hector was hoping to find me in Gaius' room. Still, if he were really a lord of his stature he wouldn't go into the court physician's room looking for me, knowing that Gaius will probably be there."

 

          "His type, you never know," Arthur grumbled, but Merlin heard him.

 

          Merlin nodded soberly. Arthur finally found the energy to sit up and then get up from the bed because his stomach was yelling at him. After Merlin hastily dressed him, movements automatic and gentle, they sat across from each other and he began to eat almost savagely. He'd had no idea he was so hungry.

 

          "Just so you know," Merlin started out slowly, a mischievous grin slowly forming on his face, "I won't tell anyone."

 

          Arthur looked up tersely at that, his stomach all in knots. Did Merlin figure out his feelings somehow overnight? Did he talk in his sleep?

 

          With a thick swallow, he asked, "Won't tell anyone what?"

 

          Letting his grin fully form, Merlin said, "That you're a cuddler." Then hastily he tacked on: "Sire."

 

          Arthur fought the blush that threatened to stain his cheeks. "I am _not_ …" he started, flabbergasted.

 

          "You are," Merlin said, rather proud of discovering this so-called fact. "You could barely let go of me, no matter how hard I tried to push you off. You just draped yourself around me like a big, lazy cat."

 

          Arthur started to sputter, because there had to be a mistake. Yet he couldn't call Merlin a liar because he knew that there was no way Merlin could be lying. There was a time when he had to share a bed with his father, because of nightmares or something, and he discovered, with immense embarrassment, that he kept trying to hold his father during the night. His father took it in stride, but Arthur had been so horrified to learn of it that he hadn't gone back to his father again when he had another nightmare; he'd just lay in his bed and tried to erase the horrid memory of the nightmare until he fell back asleep.

 

          He gave Merlin one of his trademark glares, one that promised something worse than the stocks, as he said, "You tell anyone about it, Merlin, and I _swear_ …"

 

          "I just said that I won't," Merlin said hastily, his eyes shining with understanding and assurance. "I swear, Arthur, I won't tell a soul."

 

          "Good," said Arthur, and then went back to eating, this time with a little more gusto.

 

          Right as they finished their breakfast, and Merlin was about to start filling the tub so that Arthur could bathe, there was a soft rapping at the door.

 

          "Sire? Your father requests your presence," said Gwen through the door.

 

          "Of course," Arthur muttered, but then he said louder so that Gwen will hear him: "Thank you, Guinevere, tell him I'll come straightaway."

 

          There was a quiet shuffle as Gwen walked away from the door. Arthur turned to look at Merlin, and Merlin was staring right back in confusion and curiosity.

 

          "I wonder what your father wants," Merlin said aloud what Arthur was thinking.

 

          "Could be anything," answered Arthur. He strode to the door. "Don't leave the room while I'm gone," he added before leaving. "And that's an order, Merlin."

 

          He heard Merlin sigh in a way that would get any other servant smacked for their behaviour.

 

          "Yes, sire."

 

**

 

          When Arthur entered the throne room, not only was his father there but so was Lord Hector and three of his other knights: Leon, Gareth, and Kay. The three were standing off to the side respectively, all wearing their armor, and Hector was standing before the king, looking as though he were interrupted mid-sentence when Arthur walked in.

 

          "Ah, good. Arthur," said his father, beckoning him over. "Lord Hector requests that he have a tour of our land, to better understand how to run a kingdom smoothly. I would like for you and three of your best knights to escort him. Galahad would be here, but he has come down with the cow pox, so Sir Kay's going in his stead."

 

          Sir Kay bowed his head slightly in acknowledgement and respect.

 

          "You wish me to go in armor as well, Father?" Arthur asked.

 

          "It would be best." Then the king sighed as if what he was about to say next was taxing him. "I suppose you can bring that manservant of yours, too, if you wish."

 

          Arthur bowed, fighting back a grin. "Yes, thank you, sire."

 

          "I welcome him along," said Lord Hector in a voice that made Arthur's blood boil. "The boy is… nothing like I'd ever seen before in a servant. He seems to have that certain something in him that I can't quite place."

 

          "It's called idiocy," Arthur replied smoothly. "But you get used to it after a while."

 

          Lord Hector gave Arthur a scrutinizing look that unnerved him even further. "No, sire, I don't think that is quite it."

 

          Hector was staring at Arthur as if he had the answer to his inquiry, but he didn't. Arthur was just as baffled as to what it was that Merlin possessed that made him seem so extraordinary, but of course he didn't want to tell Hector that either. Merlin was a riddle that he, himself, wished to unravel, and he wasn't about to let this sleazy Mercian Lord figure it out first. So he said nothing, stared at Hector for a few seconds, and then turned his attention back to his father.

 

          "I'll go get prepared then, sire."

 

          Uther gave Arthur a slight nod of acknowledgement, which was also his permission to go, so Arthur bowed, turned on his heel, and left the throne room.

 

**

 

          The stable hands got the party's horses saddled and ready for their trip. Arthur had to stop Merlin a few times from trying to help them, reminding him that at the moment it wasn't his job to get their rides ready. Merlin smiled at him sheepishly and Arthur swallowed hard and had to look away or he wouldn't be able to keep control of his blush, not to mention those sharp pains in his chest.

 

          They rode out the moment everyone was settled on their horses, with Arthur leading them. He didn't like it, but Lord Hector had to ride beside him, and Merlin had to stay a few paces back and to his left. The three knights provided a protective barrier for their rear. It was a beautiful day, not a cloud in the sky, and birds were singing happily in the trees. Everything should have put him in a better mood; he loved the outdoors and getting away from the castle with all its heavy duties, but having Hector riding on his right instead of Merlin put a stopper on his usual elation.

 

          "Your Majesty has a lovely kingdom," Hector said, tone sycophantic, and it set Arthur's teeth grinding. What he wouldn't give for an ambush right about now.

 

          "My father does, yes," was all Arthur wished to reply with, and wanted the conversation to end right there, but his wish, unfortunately, was denied.

 

          "Soon it'll all be yours, Prince Arthur."

 

          Arthur kept his eyes straight ahead, not wishing to even offer a glance at Hector.

 

          When he didn't answer, Hector said, "Do you not think so, sire?" his voice simpering.

 

          "Yes, of course it will be," Arthur replied, trying his best to sound uncaring and regal. "But at the moment it is my father's kingdom."

 

          "And what a great and powerful ruler he is," Lord Hector said. "But will you be continuing on his legacy or will you rule differently?"

 

          Arthur couldn't stop his brows from furrowing as he mulled the question quickly in his mind. "I—I cannot say yet," he finally answered. "It is too soon to think such a thing."

 

          "It isn't that hard of a question to answer, sire. If you know yourself well enough, and know what your stances are, then surely you know if you'll rule like your father or completely opposite."

 

          They were far enough away from the castle now that if he wanted he could stage Lord Hector's death and make it look like an accident, but no matter how much he disliked the man he couldn't turn into a cold-blooded killer. He could only hope that nature would take an instant dislike to him as well and make a tree fall on him.

 

          Taking a deep breath, Arthur finally replied, "Well, I suppose I might rule a bit differently than my father. We don't always see eye to eye on everything."

 

          Lord Hector looked very satisfied with that answer. He bowed a little in acknowledgement. "As it should be, sire. They say the son always rises above the father."

 

          All Arthur could do at the moment was nod, because as much as he despised the Lord, he might be right in that.

 

          It was quiet for a few more minutes, and it was getting a bit unnerving. He was used to having Merlin talk his ear off, chattering on and on about stuff he didn't care to listen to. And yet… Arthur swallowed and looked over his shoulder. His eyes met Merlin's and Merlin gave him a worry-free grin. He actually missed hearing Merlin's blabbering voice.

 

          Finally, the day was winding to a close and they had to set up camp. Arthur had showed Hector everything he could so far, and soon they would come up to one of the prospering villages under Camelot's rule. Merlin had gone to fetch some firewood while the knights set up pavilions after having started a campfire. Arthur sat on the best, driest log as he sharpened his sword and watched everyone work.

 

          Then he realized that Lord Hector was nowhere to be seen. Slowly, he stood to see if maybe Hector just wasn't in his line of sight, but still he couldn't see him.

 

          "Sir Gareth, where's Lord Hector?" he asked the knight as he was passing by.

 

          "Lord Hector?" said Gareth, as if confused by the question, but then hummed in thought for a second. "Er, I don't know, sire. I thought he'd be with you talking your ear off with flattery or something."

 

          So did Arthur, but he had been so engrossed in sharpening his weapon and enjoying the peace away from the Mercian Lord he hadn't really been paying attention.

 

          "He might have wandered off to relieve himself," Arthur thought aloud. "Though I'm sure he knows not to go too far. Sir Leon, you and Sir Kay should look around, in case he might have got himself lost or in trouble."

 

          "Yes, sire," said Leon dutifully, and then went to fetch Kay.

 

          Arthur let out a long-suffering sigh as he wondered why Lord Hector wasn't nearby and talking his ear off. It gave Arthur a bit of a stomachache.

 

          And speaking of which, Merlin wasn't there to talk his ear off either. With wide, worried eyes, he glanced around. Shit, Merlin should have been back long before now with more firewood.

 

          That was when he heard the scream.

 

.-.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of attempted non-con in this chapter, but nothing explicit and nothing really happens.

 

Warnings/contents: Arthur POV, possessive and protective Arthur, slight humor, some violence and angst, canon AU, magic reveal, attempted non-con

 

**

 

          Arthur ran as fast as his legs could carry him to where the scream had come from, sword in hand. He couldn't tell who it had been that screamed, but he knew that it was his duty to help whoever it was that was in danger.

 

          He finally got to a clearing, and the first thing he saw was Merlin standing next to a large oak tree, hand outstretched but slowly lowering, and then he looked down and saw that Lord Hector was on the ground clutching his left arm.

 

          What did Merlin _do_?

 

          "Merlin!" Arthur exclaimed, slightly out of breath. Merlin looked up suddenly at the sound of his name, and when he noticed Arthur his determined and hardened expression softened into something that Arthur could only recognize as fear.

 

          "Arthur," Merlin said softly, his throat bobbing. "I—"

 

          Arthur went to him in only a few, long strides. As if on automatic, he started to check Merlin over for any serious injuries. He checked his face and head, turning it this way and that, and then did a quick sweep of his torso and arms, grabbing Merlin's right arm that had been held up and outstretched to see if there were any markings there, and then glanced at Merlin's legs, which seem to be working well enough except for the slight trembling in them.

 

          "You all right?" Arthur asked in a hurried rush.

 

          "Yeah, I'm fine," Merlin said in some exasperation from being mollycoddled by the prince. "Just…" He shrugged, clearly not finding the words.

 

          Finally, Arthur had to turn his attentions to Lord Hector, who was still on the ground holding his injured arm and glaring hatefully up at them (or was it just at Merlin?).

 

          "Lord Hector…" Arthur started to say, sheathing his sword.

 

          "That boy…" Hector growled, deep and threatening, but Arthur didn't let him finish. He kneeled down to look Hector in the eye.

 

          "That _boy_ is my manservant," Arthur sneered. "And I don't appreciate that you'd been trying to force him to do whatever it is that you had set your sights on. If anyone has any need of Merlin for any reason whatsoever, they come to me first!"

 

          "But, sire, you don't understand…" Lord Hector was trying to say, pointing an accusing finger up at Merlin.

 

          "Have you or have you not been trying to coerce my manservant into your bed?" Arthur said, voice low and commanding.

 

          Lord Hector's mouth gaped open in the most unpleasant like manner as he stared into Arthur's face. "What? Why that's—that's absurd! I am morally shocked and appalled you'd even think that, sire! I was merely having a little chat with the boy…"

 

          "Liar," snarled Merlin. Arthur looked up and over his shoulder to see that Merlin's face was set in an angry glower and his fists were clenched at his sides.

 

          Slowly, Arthur stood from his crouched position and then held out a hand to help Hector up; the man's arm looked bad, like he got a second-degree burn. But that was ludicrous – there wasn't a sign of any fire nearby. What had burned him like this?

 

          Then he recalled the picture that they made when he first came into the clearing: Merlin with his hand raised and seemingly pointed at Hector, and Hector on the ground crying in agony. And if memory served the prince right, he could have sworn that Merlin's eyes had been a different colour at the time too.

 

          Unfortunately, he couldn't bring Hector before his father for it, because it was the word of a servant versus a nobleman, even if Arthur was certain that the nobleman was accountable. And if Merlin was the reason for the burn on Hector's arm…

 

          "We should take care of your injury straightaway, Lord Hector," he said before any arguments could be started up between Merlin and the Mercia Lord. He wished to deal with Merlin's oddness later.

 

          "Sire, you don't understand!" Hector squabbled, jabbing his finger hard toward Merlin again. "That boy—"

 

          And then, just like that, Lord Hector's voice cut out. It was as if he'd lost his will to speak all together. Arthur waited and waited to hear what Hector was about to tell him, but Hector only croaked as he opened and closed his mouth like a large-mouthed bass. Once he realized that he couldn't talk, Hector placed a hand to his throat in horror.

 

          "This is serious," Arthur said, trying not to laugh. "You must have become infected with something, Lord Hector. We should head back to Camelot and have Gaius take a look at you."

 

          As he helped escort Hector back to camp, he quickly looked back to see Merlin following a few steps behind him, looking just a little bit pleased about something. Yes, he'd have to have a nice, long chat with his manservant. Soon. Even if his chest and stomach were fluttering at the thought.

 

**

 

          Everything was packed and everyone back on their horses as they made the trek back to the castle. Arthur really didn't want to show Lord Hector everything in their kingdom anyway, so it all worked out to his favour.

 

          And Merlin was back to riding beside him, as it should be. Hector was behind them a few feet with the knights. He'd asked them to keep back and give him and his manservant some privacy. He turned his head to look at Merlin, and as if he knew he was being watched, Merlin turned his head and looked straight back at him.

 

          "Merlin…" he started, yet he didn't know where to begin his inquiry. Still looking rather agitated about the encounter with Hector, Merlin spoke before Arthur could find the words.

 

          "Arthur, I know what you might have seen… well, how much did you see?" Merlin swallowed hard.

 

          Arthur brought his eyes forward again to avoid crashing into any trees, which he knew was Merlin's job and not that of a prince. "I saw you standing there with your hand held up and Lord Hector on the ground, clutching his arm. What I don't fully understand, Merlin, is how he got such a terrible burn when there wasn't a fire nearby."

 

          He glanced over at Merlin again, but Merlin was facing ahead, and there was some fear and anxiety behind those blue eyes. He continued to watch and wait, hoping that Merlin could shed a little light on the subject, but Merlin looked as if he were thinking a mile a minute, as if searching for a reasonable excuse to convince the Crown Prince that what he saw wasn't what he thought.

 

          Arthur didn't know if he was angry or amused by it. He had a suspicion of what had transpired between Merlin and Hector, but it was all too much to take in at the moment. He was still trying to wrestle with the fact that he had enormous feelings for his manservant, let alone think of Merlin possessing… _that_.

 

          So, he changed the subject.

 

          "If Lord Hector tried anything… untoward with you, I swear I will make sure he won't get away with it."

 

          Merlin chuckled softly, like he was relieved for the subject change. "I'm sure he's learned his lesson, sire. No need to get him riled further."

 

          "You're right, Merlin. He might declare war on Camelot all because you wouldn't drop your breeches and bend over."

 

          Arthur smiled, almost laughing, when he saw the look on Merlin's face.

 

~*~

 

          It was as Arthur feared. Lord Hector wasn't one bit pleased by the outcome of his excursion. If Hector could speak, Arthur was sure that he would have gone to his father straightaway, but as it was, Hector had to see Gaius first. Arthur was almost relieved that Hector couldn't speak, but then nearly smacked himself for being so stupid: Hector could write a letter of explanation to his father and that would upset the apple cart further. His father was already in an agitated state, he didn't wish to see him become worse.

 

          "What happened out there, Arthur?" his father demanded, not looking one bit pleased.

 

          "To tell the truth, Father, I'm not exactly sure. I just came on the scene after Merlin defended himself from Lord Hector's advances."

 

          "That's hard to believe," Uther interrupted. "Lord Hector is a man of impeccable tastes; he wouldn't even _attempt_ to flirt with a servant, let alone another man."

 

          "Father, the moment I met Lord Hector I could feel something not at all trustworthy about him…"

 

          "He's been a loyal ally, an ambassador of Mercia; he's kept both kingdoms from going into an all-out war. I won't have anything disturb that delicate balance, let alone for a servant! Your manservant should apologize to him before he leaves so that no ill feelings are left over."

 

          Arthur wanted to argue, his jaw clenching and the hand on his sword's pommel tightening, but he knew he couldn't. Before he could say something that would land him in trouble, he bowed and left the throne room. He had to see Gaius and Merlin anyway, to see how Lord Hector was faring. He hoped he could stay composed while in the same room as Hector. He'd hate to explain to his father how Hector had suddenly had his head detached from his shoulders while being treated for a burn.

 

          When he entered Gaius' chambers, both Gaius and Merlin were standing over Hector while Gaius was treating his burn. For a minute, they hadn't noticed Arthur's entrance, and Arthur was glad because it gave him time to observe everything. Merlin was handing things to Gaius when he asked, and Gaius was treating the burn with something that looked painful to the touch. Hector kept cringing and whimpering, but he was unable to voice any more than that. Every once in a while, Hector would shoot heated glares at Merlin, while Merlin tried ignoring them as he helped Gaius.

 

Just as Merlin turned to gather up the bandages Gaius asked for, he noticed Arthur standing in the doorway, watching. Arthur felt a lump in his throat and that painful hitch in his chest as Merlin smiled softly. Arthur smiled back, but only a little; he hoped it didn't come off as a grimace.

 

          "Arthur, is your father upset?" Merlin asked, and it caused Gaius to turn and look at him too.

 

          Arthur walked further into the Court Physician's room, keeping a hand on his sword. Hector looked strangely surprised by the way Merlin had addressed him. It made Arthur colour slightly from what the use of his first name might indicate.

 

          "He is rather, yes," Arthur said. "He wants you to apologize to Lord Hector."

 

          "Apologize?" Merlin gasped in understandable outrage. "For what, defending myself against him? Why the hell would I want to do that?"

 

          "Now, now; settle down, dear boy," said Gaius, placing a gentle hand onto Merlin's arm. "You best do as the king asks. I don't want to see you thrown in the dungeons because you're too proud. In Uther's eyes, you're merely just a servant who had done wrong."

 

          Merlin's face was like a thundercloud. Arthur wasn't sure if he should be proud of Merlin for trying to stick to his principles or feel royally irritated. Then a thought drifted to the forefront of his mind, quietly saying to him: _Just because Merlin's a servant doesn't mean he shouldn't have rights._ Arthur wasn't sure if this thought manifested itself because of his feelings for Merlin, or if it had always been there building up the more Arthur watched how his father ruled.

 

          "Merlin," he said gently, trying to convey everything he felt with just the tone of his voice. "Do it, and then come see me in my chambers. We need to have a talk."

 

          With that, Arthur swept out of the room. A part of him wanted to hug Merlin and let him know that everything would be okay, but even he didn't know if that was true, and he didn't think that lie would be welcome right now.

 

~*~

 

          He waited in his chambers for Merlin to show up, leaning next to his window and looking out at the courtyard. He watched the busy people hustling and bustling about, feeling a great affection for his kingdom, his people. As he thought on this, he knew that Lord Hector was right in that he would most likely rule a bit differently than his father. Uther had a more callous heart when dealing with issues than he did. He recalled one time his father had told him that he had his mother's heart, and he supposed that was true. Arthur's heart was a lot softer, and he cared for other people's well-being more than his father did. He wondered if his father's hatred for magic helped in turning his heart cold.

 

          "Arthur?" came a voice from the door. "May I come in, or are you too busy staring at your own reflection in the window? I can come back later if you two need to be alone," she quipped.

 

          He turned his head to see the door open a crack. He sighed and said, "Yes, Morgana, you may come in."

 

          She strolled in, shutting the door behind her, and then came to stand beside him at the window. Her expression went from teasing to serious when she noticed the look on his face. "I was just wondering how you're faring."

 

          Arthur turned to look out the window again, resting his chin on his finger and thumb while his elbow rested on a folded arm. "I'm fine, thanks."

 

          "You're not fine, Arthur," said Morgana in her straightforward tone. "I know that you don't realize it, but you're coming off different. Your personality, that is."

 

          "Is it?" Arthur jeered. "Well, thank you ever so much for pointing it out to me, Morgana. Perhaps I should go back to the way I was before the kingdom kept getting targeted one after the other by evil sorcerers. Will that be all?"

 

          "No," she huffed, eyes deep and determined. "I think you should tell me what's wrong. I mean honestly, Arthur; I've never seen you act this way toward another nobleman before. And, granted, I don't like him either, but you rarely ever let that come between you and decorum, not to mention the way you've reacted when Merlin became the victim. You'd never do that for any other servant."

 

          Arthur turned his head to look at her. "You don't think I wouldn't do that for Gwen?"

 

          Morgana looked away, as if ashamed she'd forgotten about her own handmaiden. "Yes, of course you'd do so for Gwen, but you know what I mean," she looked up into his face again. "I've seen the way you look at Merlin."

 

          It was like a shot in the gut, and Arthur had to keep from giving away too much in his facial features, but somehow Morgana noticed.

 

          "I don't look at him in any other way that I had before."

 

          "Liar," she said softly. "I can see it in the way you interact with him, how protective you are."

 

          "Because he's my manservant," Arthur said tersely.

 

          "You've _never_ been this protective toward a manservant before. You remember that one servant you had, a few years ago before Merlin came? You showed him some appreciation, yes, but you also treated him as if he didn't have any significance. That's not what I see when you're with Merlin."

 

          Arthur turned away from the window and went to stand beside his bed, pretending to fluff his own pillow. It didn't need fluffing; Merlin did it just this morning as part of his usual morning ritual. He'd noticed everything Merlin had done in his bedroom as he ate, but he wasn't about to let anyone know that.

 

          "So I care about him, so what?" was Arthur's curt reply. "He's… he's more than just a manservant."

 

          "I'll bet."

 

          Arthur turned to face her, anger as his shield for his true feelings. "He's my friend, that's why I care about him," he snapped.

 

          Morgana lifted her eyebrows, and he couldn't tell if she were mocking him or truly surprised. "Oh?"

 

          Arthur stared down at his bed sheets as he spoke. "Yeah. He's… he's my best friend."

 

          There was silence for a moment, and then Morgana was suddenly behind him with a hand on his arm in a gentle manner. "You really do love him." It wasn't a question. Arthur couldn't comment to that, because whatever he said he knew that his voice would betray him.

 

          He swallowed nervously and went for sounding regal. "Are we done here, Morgana?"

 

          "For now," she said in a very pleased tone. He glanced up as she walked off to see a slight smile on her face. Women could be such gossiping whores.

 

          "I swear if you ever so much as tell a soul…" he couldn't help adding before she left.

 

          She looked at him. "It's not my secret to share. Sweet dreams, Arthur." She smirked, and then turned and walked out.

 

          Arthur realized he'd been crumpling his feather pillow, so he relaxed his hold on it and slammed it on the bed, still glaring at the closed door.

 

**

 

          Arthur waited patiently in his personal chambers, sitting by the fireplace. Well, as patient as he could, considering Merlin was twenty minutes late. Again.

 

          He knew that it was probably thanks to Lord Hector. The nobleman's arm had been badly burnt, but he figured that Gaius could take care of him on his own; he didn't really need Merlin's aid for that long, did he? Arthur stood and began pacing his chambers when the door finally opened.

 

          "It's about time you got here," Arthur exclaimed, aggravation pouring through in his voice. "Where the hell've you been?"

 

          "Sorry, sire," Merlin said immediately, laying down a large platter filled with food. "I was getting your supper so I wouldn't have to make a second trip."

 

          He was rather hungry, now that he thought about it. He'd been so worried about the talk he was to have with Merlin that his hunger had fled him during those moments.

 

          "Now you're finally using the old noodle, Merlin," he praised and sat at his table. "Guess you're not as big an idiot as I first thought."

 

          Merlin smiled that goofy smile that made Arthur look away. "That's quite a compliment, coming from you," said Merlin, laying out the plates of food and two goblets before filling them with ale. Arthur saw he also brought a jug of water.

 

          "Don't get used to it," Arthur replied routinely. He picked up a fork and began to eat as nonchalantly as possible and not at all like a starving man. "Have you fed and exercised my dogs yet today? They're very irritable."

 

          "Yes, Arthur, I finished all my chores for today," Merlin said. "Now the only thing that's left is getting you ready for bed." He smiled at Arthur again, cheeks ruddy and eyes bright. Arthur had to take a sip of his ale or he might smile back.

 

          "You're quite pleased with yourself, aren't you?" Arthur quipped after swallowing and setting the cup down slowly. Merlin's eyes had been trailing his face and neck while he drank, and it had caused a sharp pain to leap in Arthur's chest.

 

          "I'm pleased if you're pleased," Merlin replied too quickly, and then a sudden flush spread across his face. "Er, I mean… I'm just glad that you're happy with my work, and…" Merlin trailed off. "Never mind."

 

          This time Arthur's stomach did a few odd flips instead of his chest, and he meant to look away from Merlin but his traitorous eyes wouldn't obey. He kept staring—ogling—Merlin as Merlin fumbled with the dishes before seating himself across from him with his own plate of food. Merlin's hands were shaking when he picked up his utensil and whatever it was he tried grabbing kept slipping off.

 

          After a moment of wrestling down his feelings into its cage again, Arthur mocked, "You know, normally a servant isn't supposed to sit with a nobleman—let alone the prince—and eat with him. It's not customary."

 

          Merlin looked up at that, looking as though he was fighting a smile, but his eyes were giving him away. "Yeah, well… I'm not a normal servant."

 

          "That much is true," Arthur snorted. "For instance, setting a Lord on fire without a torch. Now _that_ is not normal."

 

          Arthur patted himself on the back for bringing up the subject so casually.

 

          Merlin, however, kept his eyes on his plate as he moved his food around on it, face gone slightly ashen. "Er, yeah, about that…"

 

          "So, tell me," Arthur said, butterflies slowly forming in his stomach, almost afraid of hearing what he was suspecting. "How did you do it?"

 

          "Can we just forget about it?" Merlin asked hastily, pleadingly.

 

          "No, we can't. Once Lord Hector regains his voice, he'll talk, and it would possibly be best if you told me the truth so that we could make sure he doesn't… well, you know, go to my father about it. Because if he says anything that would play on my father's fears, my father will have you killed."

 

          Merlin was studying his face; almost as if he couldn't believe what Arthur was saying was true.

 

          Finally, Merlin said, "He… he won't regain his voice yet. Not until he's back at Mercia."

 

          Arthur raised his eyebrows at that. What a way to veer the topic slightly. "And you know this how?" he asked.

 

          Merlin shrugged one shoulder, trying to seem nonchalant about it all. "Just something I know."

 

          "Uh huh," said Arthur, suspiciously. "Merlin, if I didn't know any better I'd think you had something to do with his lost voice."

 

          Merlin stared, fear and something else altogether shining in his eyes. The look was doing something to Arthur, as it plucked at his heartstrings and made his palms sweat. He wanted to tell Merlin that it'd be okay, that he'd find a way to save him, but he was having a hard time finding his voice as well.

 

He set his goblet down, and then ever so slowly he slid his hand across the table toward Merlin's hand. Arthur watched his hand tentatively hover over Merlin's, and he just knew that Merlin was also watching as he ever so slowly, tenderly, placed his fingertips onto Merlin's knuckles. Hand still shaking softly, Arthur slid it over the top of Merlin's and went underneath Merlin's palm to give it a small squeeze test to see if Merlin would accept this sudden, intimate gesture.

 

          Neither moved for a moment as Arthur wrapped his hand more securely around Merlin's. The heat of their bodies seemed to be concentrated in that one spot, that little connection of skin. Then, he heard Merlin let out a breath as he curled his fingers around Arthur's, returning the gesture.

 

          They held hands for what seemed like hours, but it was only a minute as they stared at each other. Their eyes were unable to lie; everything they felt for each other was seeping out in this one silent moment.

 

          "Merlin, I…"

 

          There was a knock on the door, startling them, and their hands leaped away from each other's as if burned.

 

          "Enter," Arthur said, voice surprisingly steady.

 

          The door slowly opened and a servant peeked his head in. "Um, Sire? The king wishes to speak with you."

 

          It was then that Arthur recalled the worry of Lord Hector writing a letter to his father. He swallowed a nervous lump and stood regally. "Okay, tell him I'll be right there."

 

          "Yes, sire," said the servant, and then left.

 

          "Arthur…" Merlin said softly, a hitch in his voice.

 

          "It's all right, Merlin," Arthur said. "I promise I won't let anything happen to you."

 

          "But he's the king," Merlin said, standing up, as Arthur hurried with making himself look more presentable. "If Lord Hector had convinced him of…"

 

          "I know, Merlin," Arthur interrupted, not wishing to hear the words actually spoken aloud in case it jinxed something. He turned to face his anxious manservant, and he needn't touch him to know that Merlin was shaking, either with fear or nervous energy, or possibly both. He felt a bit nervous too, but he wasn't about to admit it. "Try not to worry too much. Just, um…" Arthur swept a hand around his quarters. "Clean a bit. That might take your mind off it for a while."

 

          "Oh, right, cleaning," Merlin retorted. "That will really help the situation. Arthur!" he said, exasperated.

 

          Arthur quickly – his feet and arms suddenly having a mind of their own – stepped forward, pulled Merlin to him and wrapped his arms loosely around Merlin in what he meant to be just a short, quick hug, but he ended up tightening his hold. Merlin, Mr. Heart On His Sleeve, held him back just as close, just as dangerously as he dared, face smashed into Arthur's shoulder and Arthur's chin resting almost painfully on Merlin's shoulder.

 

          "Idiot," Arthur grumbled into Merlin's ear, lips brushing the lobe. "I meant what I said, and I will make sure nothing happens to you. I swear."

 

          "How?" Merlin's muffled voice said under Arthur's chin, breaking slightly. "He's the king, he's your father…"

 

          "I'll lie if I must," Arthur promised. "But I swear, Merlin, I won't let him hurt you."

 

          They held each other like that for a moment longer, but Arthur knew he had to go see his father before he got too impatient. Slowly, as if he was afraid that it would be the last time he'd ever see Merlin again, he released his hold. Merlin stepped back just as slowly, but more dejectedly. It put a slight twinge in his heart to see the look on Merlin's face, but he couldn't do anything to ease Merlin at the moment. Duty called, and the best he could do for Merlin was to do his duty and make sure that nothing happened to him. He was about to go around Merlin to leave, but then realized that their hands were still entwined together, and although it was a loose grip it still made him pause. He looked down at their joined hands a moment then up at Merlin, before squeezing his hand in reassurance and letting go. It felt a lot harder to do than he thought.

 

          "Stay here," he pleaded. "I won't be long."

 

          Merlin nodded, fight seemingly drained from him. Arthur stared a second more before finding the strength to turn and leave.

 

~*~

 

          "You wished to see me, Father?" Arthur said the moment he stepped into the throne room. It was only Uther there, thankfully, but he was holding the one thing Arthur had been dreading since their return to the castle: a letter from Lord Hector.

 

          "Yes," replied Uther. "Lord Hector wrote me a letter, since he is still unable to talk. It is of a delicate nature, and that is why I'm telling you about it first."

 

          "A delicate nature?" said Arthur, somewhat confused. "What does it—he—say?"

 

          Uther cleared his throat before looking down at the letter. "He says, basically, that he is most displeased by his stay here in Camelot and he has every right to report his displeasure to his king. However, he offered an ultimatum."

 

          Arthur didn't like the sound of that, but he remained silent as his father continued.

 

          "He will forgive all assaults to his person, and give a good report to his king, if he can have Merlin."

 

          " _What?_ " Arthur bellowed, unable to rein in his sudden anger. This was not at all what he'd been expecting.

 

          "Arthur, control yourself," his father demanded. "You know as well as I do that it's a reasonable request."

 

          "It is not, in any conceivable conduct, a reasonable request!" Arthur argued.

 

          "Arthur, really," Uther sighed, pressing his finger and thumb into his eyes, exasperated. "Don't. He's just a servant."

 

          "He isn't just _a servant_ ," Arthur growled, his jealousy and anger suddenly bursting. "He's—he's MY servant, and my friend! There is no way that I'm letting that fat, obnoxious slob get his meaty paws on my Merlin!"

 

          "Arthur!" Uther gasped, shocked and aggravated. "That's quite enough! You're not acting at all like a prince, and you must remember whom it is you're speaking to. I'm not just your father, Arthur; I'm also your king. My mind is made up on the subject whether you disapprove of it or not."

 

          Arthur was panting hard, eyes narrowed in a way that he normally used for enemies of Camelot; he could hardly speak now, he was so enraged.

 

          "Get your manservant packed and ready to go," Uther ordered. "He leaves first thing tomorrow morning with Lord Hector. And I do hope, for your sake, that you show more decorum while seeing your manservant off; crying's only for women and children, and you are neither."

 

          It was then that Arthur realized that that was exactly what he'd been doing. He slowly, with some composure, wiped at his cheeks with the back of his hand, and then took a deep breath before giving Uther a small bow and leaving the throne room.

 

~*~

 

          Making his way back to his chambers, thinking of ways he could either make his father change his mind or kill Lord Hector and find a suitable place to hide the body, he heard a sudden cry down the hall a little ways toward the kitchen.

 

          "Get your hands off me!" Arthur heard a familiar voice scream.

 

          "Merlin," he gasped, and then ran hard in that direction. He skidded to a halt as he rounded the corner, and there, with his back pressed against the stone wall, was Merlin, and he was being fondled by Lord Hector.

 

          Arthur saw red.

 

          "OI!" he shouted, strides long and quick. "Leave my manservant alone!"

 

          Hector turned and, upon seeing Arthur, he smiled that oily smile he usually gave Uther when being obsequious, and stepped back away from Merlin. He bowed low when Arthur got closer, and Arthur nearly took out his sword to hold against the slimy nobleman's neck, but he held himself in check. It wouldn't do to make matters worse.

 

          "He isn't yours, yet," Arthur growled, trying to sound as intimidating as possible. "So you best keep your grabby hands to yourself."

 

          Unable to speak, all Lord Hector did was bow again and slowly walk away, a very pleased smirk on his face. It made Arthur wish he really did draw his sword, because then at least the arse would be more scared than snobby.

 

          Merlin stared at Arthur as if he'd grown a second head. "What do you mean, I'm not his YET?"

 

          Not wishing to make a scene in the hallway, Arthur grabbed Merlin by the arm and ushered him up to his rooms.

 

          "It's worse than we thought," Arthur started the moment they were in his chambers, the door locked. He explained, gently, what the letter Lord Hector wrote to his father said. The look of utter distress and horror in Merlin's face was nearly enough to break through the wall Arthur erected around his heart after leaving the throne room. He could feel the prickling of tears fighting in the corners of his own eyes, but he forced himself to remain calm and composed.

 

          "He can't do this!" Merlin hissed, tears in his own eyes nearly spilling over. Arthur wanted to wipe them away with his fingers, but found he couldn't move lest he burst into tears himself.

 

          "Unfortunately, he can," he said gently. "My father would do anything to keep Camelot from going into a full-out war with Mercia. They're strong, almost as strong as us, and they have nothing against sorcerers. Mercia would use everything in their arsenal to win and bring us down. This is the other fear my father has, and he doesn't see this as an unfair trade. Anything to keep what little peace we have."

 

          "And you didn't try anything to make him refuse the offer, did you?" Merlin lashed out, a tear spilling over onto one of his sharp cheekbones and eyelashes sticking together wetly. "You promised you wouldn't let anything happen to me!"

 

          "I had no idea that Lord Hector was going to request that!" Arthur's anger leapt, sorrow too great. "I thought he was going to tell my father about – you know! Then I would've made up a lie about how we were near the campfire, and that you probably pushed the idiot into the fire!" His anger slowly began to fizzle out from the mere sight Merlin made: face and eyes red, tears falling at an alarming rate, body shaking, hair in a disarray. Arthur's heart was breaking, slowly and painfully, and he couldn't stop himself from pulling Merlin into his arms again and holding him as if his life depended on it.

 

          Their bodies seem to mold into each other's as they tried to get close as humanly possible, their holds on each other getting tighter the longer they hugged, and for some odd reason they were softly swaying in one spot, almost as if they were dancing.

 

          Arthur soon realized that Merlin was sobbing. His wall was crumbling down from around him, brick by brick.

 

          "It's not fair…" Merlin choked out. "We'd _just_ realized how we felt… and now we're being torn apart!"

 

          Arthur rubbed Merlin's back as he continued to hold onto him tightly. For the longest time he couldn't speak. He kept hold of his own emotions best he could, but it was harder than he realized, his wall now a pile of mortar and dust. A tear escaped down his cheek, but he couldn't be bothered to wipe it away.

 

          When they finally found the strength to move from the middle of the room to Arthur's bed, sitting beside each other and their hands tightly clasped between them, Arthur found his voice again.

 

          "Why didn't you stay in my chambers like I'd asked?"

 

          Merlin shrugged lightly, rubbing at his face and hair nervously, eyes still glassy and red. "I did as you suggested: I was cleaning."

 

          Arthur had to raise an eyebrow at that. "Cleaning? Was the hallway that dusty?"

 

          Merlin gave him a weak smile. "No. I was returning the dirty dishes to the kitchen. I was on my way back to do more cleaning, but Lord Hector surprised me on the way here."

 

          That much was obvious, but Arthur didn't say so.

 

          "Why didn't you… you know," Arthur gestured a hand in a way he hoped Merlin would understand.

 

          "Didn't want to risk getting caught," Merlin said softly, and then shrugged. "Habit, I guess. It might not have been you that came down that hallway."

 

          Arthur nodded, understanding completely. "True."

 

          They lapsed into an uneasy silence, staring down into their laps. The silence was finally broken when Merlin let out a long, suffering sigh.

 

          "What do we do now?" he asked Arthur softly. "We've been in life-threatening situations together, surely we can come up with something to stop me from leaving Camelot."

 

          "Yes," said Arthur slowly. Then he suddenly looked up into Merlin's face. "Nothing in your bag of tricks that could help?"

 

          Merlin's eyebrows rose. "Why, sire, are you asking me to…?"

 

          Arthur shook his head hurriedly. "No, wait… you shouldn't. It might make things worse."

 

          Silence again, and then Merlin sighed dejectedly and leaned his head down onto Arthur's shoulder. Arthur scooted closer and put an arm around Merlin, pressing him hard against his side.

 

          "How long have I got?" Merlin asked against Arthur's neck.

 

          Arthur ran his fingers through Merlin's hair, making it stand up oddly, and surprisingly he found it endearing.

 

          "You leave tomorrow morning."

 

          Merlin raised his head, putting their faces only an inch away. "Let's make the most of tonight, then."

 

          Arthur's hand in Merlin's hair tightened as he held him there, his other hand around Merlin's body to keep him pressed against his. He leaned down and swept his lips on the lower part of Merlin's jaw, just near his chin, and then slowly, eyes closed, kissed Merlin's chin. Merlin sighed with longing, eyes fluttering shut; he moved to rub the side of his face against Arthur's, and Arthur welcomed the press of their cheeks before kissing Merlin along his jaw line to his ear. He sucked and nipped the earlobe, and Merlin shivered and wrapped his arms around Arthur's neck tightly.

 

          Gently, Arthur lowered them onto the bed. Merlin relieved Arthur of his jacket and Arthur helped in removing his shift. Once bare-chested, he helped Merlin to remove his shirt and neckerchief, tossing them aside onto the floor. Arthur kissed along the column of Merlin's throat, hands gentle on Merlin's bare skin. Words were no longer necessary; Arthur let his feelings for Merlin show by each touch, each press of lips to skin. Merlin arched beneath him, moaning softly when Arthur kissed below his belly, and moved lower still while removing his trousers. Merlin's cock was fat and straining toward him, and Arthur took a firm hold and slipped the unsheathed head into his mouth. The noise Merlin made almost undid him, but he starved himself off by squeezing the base of his cock. The need for Merlin grew too great, and he couldn't stay slow for long. He crawled back up Merlin's body, and finally— _finally—_ he tasted those full lips with his.

 

          Merlin latched onto him like a man dying of thirst, pulling their bodies impossibly close, their cocks throbbing next to each other's and their tongues mingling and lips sucking. Merlin tangled his fingers into Arthur's hair as Arthur continued to kiss him hard, aching as he'd never ached before. And when Merlin raised his knees and let his legs fall open, he couldn't stop the groan erupting from his throat.

 

          "Take me, Arthur," Merlin panted, voice demanding. "Mark me as yours."

 

          " _God,_ " Arthur moaned and did as ordered, slowly and gently pushing his way into Merlin's body. There was very little resistance, Arthur found. And when he looked up into Merlin's face, Merlin's eyes were wide and glowing gold. "Merlin…"

 

          "Arthur," Merlin whispered, eyes shutting softly.

 

          Merlin gave freely to Arthur, and Arthur nearly wept from the emotions building in his chest. The pain, which worried him in the beginning, was welcomed and Merlin shared his pain, showing his emotions with just one look. Merlin had been his from the very start.

 

.-.


	3. Chapter 3

 

Rating: Hard R – NC-17

Warnings/contents: Arthur POV mostly, possessive and protective Arthur, slight humor, nudity, some violence and angst, canon AU, magic reveal

 

~**~

 

          Before dawn broke, they were awake and rolling around on the bed, kissing and touching as if one were about to die in battle. Merlin was on top for a while, sucking and licking Arthur's mouth and grinding their hips together, and then Arthur rolled them over and pinned Merlin to the mattress, pillows in a disarray above their heads and legs tangled in the sheets.

 

          They'd made love twice before falling asleep, and the moment they'd awaked they'd reached for each other in the dark like magnet to steel. With a flick of his wrist, Merlin had dried the bed sheets. Arthur didn't say a word about it; he had only stared at Merlin's glowing eyes in awe. And after Arthur exhausted himself again over Merlin, they rolled over so that Merlin was on top again and slowly Arthur got him off. Merlin came on Arthur's stomach, and Arthur didn't care.

 

          When it finally came time to get up, Arthur was finding it extremely difficult, and it was even more difficult to watch how miserable Merlin looked as he got dressed. They didn't say a word to each other, and Merlin gave him a sad, hope-filled look before leaving the room to fetch breakfast. Arthur tilted his head back and sighed as he thought of anything else he could do that he hadn't thought of before.

 

          Well, if he were going to see Merlin off, he might as well ride the way there with him. It was days to Mercia, and that meant more time to spend with Merlin before he was out of his life for good. The hard part was getting his father to agree, and then having Lord Hector be okay with the escort. If need be, he'd threaten Hector's life on pain and suffering.

 

          Merlin came back quicker than usual, which was good because Arthur didn't want to sit alone in his room and mope any longer. They sat in silence while they ate, and even though it was a sad occasion Merlin's eyes still held love and need in them as he stared at Arthur.

 

          "Once we finish eating, don't forget you need to pack your things," Arthur said automatically, and it might have sounded a little uncaring. Merlin stared at him as if assessing whether he was putting on a front or not. Merlin should know him better than that.

 

          "Yes, sire," Merlin only said after a moment.

 

          "And don't forget to say goodbye to Gaius," Arthur felt he needed to address. "He's been uncommonly kind to you, almost like a grandfather, so…"

 

          "I _know_ that, Arthur," Merlin's voice was finally sounding stronger, and it pleased Arthur in a way he couldn't fathom.

 

          "Good," was all Arthur could think of to say back. Once he finished eating, he stood and went to get dressed while Merlin gathered up their dirty dishes. He couldn't even look at Merlin, keeping his head down, because he feared that if he looked into those soulful eyes right now he'd do something desperate and stupid. What, he wasn't sure, but he knew that it would have been stupid.

 

          Arthur immediately went to the throne room, hoping to see his father there already. He would beg on hand and knee if he must, in order to ride to Mercia with Merlin. Well, maybe he wouldn't sink that low, but it wasn't a bad idea as he walked purposely to the double doors.

 

          His father was there having breakfast. When he entered, Uther welcomed him with a raised goblet and asked him to sit with him. Arthur found it would be best if he stayed standing, so he did.

 

          "Father, I request that I escort Lord Hector and Merlin to Mercia, or at least to the borders."

 

          Uther didn't seem as surprised by this request; he almost smirked. "I don't know if that's really necessary, Arthur. Lord Hector came here unescorted so I see no reason why he should need to be on his journey home."

 

          "I understand, Father, but I really must insist. In fact, I'll bring two of my most trusted knights with as well." Arthur thought fast: "Lately, it had come to my attention that the woods between here and Mercia had grown dangerous, and I want to make sure that Merlin arrives there safely."

 

          Uther raised a brow in disbelief. "I think what you're concerned with is what Lord Hector will do with Merlin once they're out of your sight." And Uther said that with a bit of mirth, which actually riled Arthur a little.

 

          "Father, please," Arthur said, feeling his body wanting to kneel at his father's feet, but he stood firm. "You must understand. I can't just see Merlin off from here, from the castle steps. I have to…" Arthur struggled for words as he gave his father a meaningful look. He hoped his father would understand in just that one glance.

 

          Finally, Uther sighed, setting down his goblet. "All right, Arthur, but we must discuss it with Lord Hector first."

 

          "Discuss it?" Arthur said, incredulous. "He can't even speak!"

 

          "He can still write," Uther pointed out. "He's been using some of our parchment and ink in order to communicate with others when he needs to." Uther then told one of the guards standing nearby to fetch Lord Hector, and the guard bowed and left. "And," Uther continued, "you will keep a cool head when he's here. I won't have you flying off the handle like a madman."

 

          Arthur swallowed, the jab from his father stinging worse than if his father had yelled at him. He bowed in respect and then stood off to the side as they waited for Hector to arrive. His father finished his breakfast just as the Mercian Lord was ushered in.

 

          Hector bowed just as showy and ass-kissing as usual when he approached the king. He then gave a half-low bow to Arthur who didn't return the sentiment. No one commented on it.

 

          "Lord Hector," said Uther. "I do hope you had a pleasant sleep."

 

          Hector nodded with an oily grin, and his eyes shifted over to Arthur to show that it wasn't reaching his eyes at all; in fact, they were looking menacing with a promise of more menace to come.

 

          "My son has requested that he and two of his knights join you and the boy, Merlin, back to your homeland. He insists that he does, and I do hope that you will accept his kind offer."

 

          Lord Hector unrolled some parchment, took out a quill from his belt that was still slightly wet with ink, and wrote something down using the hard surface of the long table. Then, he handed the parchment over to Uther, who took it gracefully, and Arthur felt himself sneering. There was really no need for Hector to have to "say" anything; a simple shake or nod of the head was all that was required.

 

          Uther didn't show much emotion while he read it to himself, and then once finished – which really didn't take too long – he looked up at Hector first and then glanced at Arthur.

 

          "What does he say, Father?" Arthur asked, trying not to sound too impatient.

 

          "He says: 'I appreciate the sentiments from Prince Arthur, but have to turn down his kind offer. I will travel home with my new servant of my bedchambers…'"

 

          Before Uther could finish, Arthur had swiftly drawn his sword.

 

          "Arthur!" his father chastised. "Stand down, that's an order!"

 

          There was a moment of panic as Uther and Hector thought for sure that Arthur would really use his sword on Hector. His hand twitched as he held the sword aloft, blood pounding in his veins and drowning out sound in his ears. Hector looked frightened, as he should be, thought Arthur, but he was looking somewhat amused as well. It made Arthur even angrier.

 

          Uther slowly went to him and placed a calming hand onto his son's arm, hoping that it won't spook Arthur badly enough that he'd swing.

 

          "Arthur, please; don't let your anger take control of you. Put your sword away."

 

          After a moment, Arthur lowered his weapon, breathing hard through his nose. He kept his heated glare aimed at Hector as he did so, and when he sheathed his sword it was with reluctance and more force than necessary, making the _'shink'_ noise ring out in the room a bit louder than normal. He happily saw Hector swallow nervously from that.

 

          When he finally found his voice, hard but even, Arthur said, "Father, you know I have every right to escort them to Mercia, seeing how it is _my_ manservant that's being taken from me…"

 

          Uther paced the throne room for a bit as Arthur and Hector watched, each hoping the king would side with him. Arthur would keep shooting angry, vexed looks at Hector and Hector would try giving Arthur what seemed to be apologetic glances, but Arthur didn't care. He still felt as if he should just run the arse through.

 

          When Uther finally turned to face them, hands behind his back, the look in his eyes already told Arthur everything, and he forced himself not to crack a smile.

 

          "I believe it would be best if Arthur and a couple knights did ride with you, Lord Hector, at least to Mercia's borders. Arthur is right; the woods have been treacherous lately, and it wouldn't do if you or Merlin were to be suddenly killed on the way there. You've already got what you want, surely there's no harm in letting Arthur spend a few more days with his old manservant."

 

          Hector looked as though he wished to argue, but the expression in Uther's eyes made Hector back down, and he nodded and bowed in acceptance. It was times like these that made Arthur happy to have Uther as a father.

 

          "It's settled, then," said Uther. He then turned to his son. "Arthur, let the knights you've already chosen understand they are to accompany you and Lord Hector, and then get ready yourself. You all leave in an hour."

 

~**~

 

          Merlin tried fighting Arthur again about finding a way to get him to stay as Arthur's manservant, and although he wished there was a way, like Merlin hoped, he knew that it was no use. He couldn't disobey his father, and he tried to let Merlin understand that at least his father allowed him to accompany him there. Otherwise, he would have said his goodbyes to him already; this way they'd get a few more days together.

 

          Merlin still didn't look too happy about everything, but at least he wasn't bawling like a girl. If anything, Merlin's eyes had hardened. Arthur didn't know if that meant Merlin was accepting his new position or if he was scheming to get away once he arrived at Mercia. He wouldn't put it past Merlin to do the latter.

 

          Although Hector was leading the way to Mercia as they rode, Merlin stayed back with Arthur, at Arthur's right, where he belonged. Sir Leon and Sir Gareth were accompanying them a few paces back. Arthur glanced back at them, and when they saw him looking they gave him a slight tilt of acknowledgement, eyes fiercely loyal. Arthur returned the nod and then eased his horse closer to Merlin's so that he could reach over and take hold of Merlin's hand.

 

Merlin jerked his head around to stare at Arthur in shock for being so daring, but then smiled and curled his hand around Arthur's in loving acceptance. Arthur didn't dare look back to see what his knights' expressions were, and he really didn't care. If Merlin was to be taken from him, what did it matter if his two loyal knights saw him showing affection toward Merlin? It would, at least, make them understand more why he was so rattled about losing Merlin.

 

          It was hours before they finally let go of each other.

 

          They made camp before dusk even arrived, hungry and saddle-sore. Leon and Gareth went off to hunt, leaving Arthur and Merlin to start a fire and pitch the tents. Lord Hector didn't do anything; he just stood there looking sulky, possibly grumpy that he didn't have his voice back yet. It made Arthur wonder, still, why he hadn't told his father about Merlin. Perhaps Hector figured that once he had Merlin back at Mercia he would force Merlin to undo the spell. Of course, if what Merlin said was true then Hector wouldn't have to do anything and he'd have his voice back before long. He'd probably make Merlin his Court Sorcerer after all this, even after showing such insubordination. That thought didn't sit well with Arthur, knowing that Hector would most likely abuse Merlin until he'd learned to obey his every whim.

 

Or until Merlin killed Hector in anger. Either outcome didn't bode well.

 

          After they finished eating the meat the two knights provided them all (two rabbits and three pheasants), along with a few bits of cheese from their saddle bags, Merlin and Arthur wandered a ways from the campsite in order to be alone. Hopefully Arthur didn't have to say anything to Leon and Gareth and that they'd look after Hector while they were gone.

 

          They didn't speak as they walked, as if breaking the silence of the forest around them was forbidden. When they finally came across a clearing behind some bushes, Arthur heard the sound of water. He couldn't tell if it was a river or a stream at first. He cocked his head, listening attentively. It sounded like it was coming from their right.

 

          "Is that…?" Merlin whispered, also hearing it. Without saying a word, Arthur followed the sound of running water. Merlin right behind him.

 

          It was definitely water they had heard, but not what they'd been expecting. It was a small waterfall crashing down the side of a craggy ledge on the side of a hill into a small, yet not too small, pool. There were no weeds around the water, only smooth and flat rocks, and the water looked so clear and refreshing. Arthur was even tempted to strip down to nothing and jump in. At a glance, it looked as though that thought was going through Merlin's head too.

 

          "This is…" Merlin began, but then closed his mouth when words failed him. Arthur sensed all the feelings that must be churning within Merlin; this moment actually felt extraordinary, and what made it become even more so was when the sun finally set and the fireflies came out to play.

 

          "Utterly breathtaking," Arthur provided after a moment. He disliked feeling like such a girl, but he had to admit that the scene before them really was beautiful. It was almost like Mother Nature herself was giving them her blessing. Well, Arthur wasn't about to pass this opportunity up. He started pulling off his shirt.

 

          "What're you doing?" Merlin gasped, sounding somewhat nervous.

 

          "What's it look like I'm doing, Merlin?" Arthur tersed. "Now, are you going to just stand there gaping like a fish or are you joining me?"

 

          Still stunned by Arthur's boldness as Arthur continued relieving himself of clothing, Merlin stared for a long moment. But then once Arthur was fully nude, and walking toward the water after a short 'come hither' glance, Merlin followed suit. Just as Arthur tested how deep the water seemed (the shallower parts only came up to his hips), Merlin had tossed off his clothing and went to join him, all toned muscles and gangly limbs. Merlin lost his footing a little on a smooth rock, but Arthur caught him before he could fall backward and injure himself. Then, without warning, Merlin leapt from the edge and splashed Arthur. Arthur wasn't used to the water completely yet, so the coolness of it suddenly hitting his bare chest and stomach made him gasp most un-manly like.

 

          "Merlin!" he berated, stepping back with a gasp.

 

          "Sorry, sire," Merlin grinned, sheepish and apologetic. It was so hard to stay angry with Merlin when he smiled like that. He also found it odd how the cool water didn't seem to be affecting Merlin as much as it did him, and _he_ had more muscle mass than Merlin.

 

          "I sometimes wonder about you, Merlin," Arthur sighed, shaking his head in mock dismay. "You need to show me more respect."

 

          "I am respectful," Merlin countered as he floated on his back. "Why else do you think I empty your chamber pot without much fuss?"

 

          Arthur grabbed hold of Merlin's face and pushed him underwater. He laughed as Merlin came back up coughing and sputtering.

 

          "I could have drowned!"

 

          "Nonsense," said Arthur, still chuckling softly. "If I wanted to drowned you I would have held your head under the water until you stopped flailing."

 

          "Prat," Merlin huffed, splashing some water up onto Arthur's torso.

 

          "Oi! That's cold!" Arthur protested.

 

          "Then why'd you come in the water in the first place," Merlin mocked. "Sire?"

 

          "Right, that's it!" Arthur got Merlin into a headlock. Merlin sputtered and thrashed about as Arthur gave him a good, hard noogie. "Guess I'll have to just beat you into submission."

 

          "Arthur!" Merlin whined.

 

          Arthur stopped trying to set Merlin's hair on fire with his knuckles, but kept a firm hold around his neck. Merlin almost lost balance a few times, but he held onto Arthur's bulging forearm as he struggled for release, almost half-heartedly.

 

          "Give up?" Arthur grinned.

 

          "No!" Merlin said, bravely and stupidly.

 

          "You do realize that you've never had it so good, while being my manservant? Your will might end up being broken once you start serving…" Arthur cut off, realizing just what he was about to say. Merlin stopped struggling immediately, and a moment later Arthur released him and they stared at each other. Merlin's hair stood on end from the roughhousing he gave him.

 

          That horribly sad look in Merlin's eyes returned, and Arthur could just kick himself for being so stupid.

 

          "Arthur…" Merlin whispered, and that was all it took for Arthur to pull him close and bring his head down to rest on his chest.

 

          "Sorry, Merlin, I didn't mean…" Arthur sighed. He wasn't good with words sometimes, especially when it came to matters of the heart.

 

          "I don't want to go," Merlin whined. Arthur rubbed his back as soothingly as he could without seeming patronizing.

 

          "I don't want you to go either," Arthur said, words suddenly tumbling out of his mouth out of their own accord. "But it won't change anything; I'll forever love you."

 

          Their demeanor sobered up further from Arthur's soft confession. They held each other even tighter, warmth radiating through them in the water while fireflies danced around them, unperturbed by the two men. When Arthur felt Merlin begin to shake, he lifted his head up with a finger under his chin. Merlin's eyes were so blue and wet, but no tears were spilling over. Arthur moved forward and kissed Merlin softly, soundly, while the moon shone through the trees.

 

          They were so lost in each other they failed to notice they were being watched.

 

**

 

          The night air was crisp, the water gently beading on their skin while they touched and kissed, slowly, tenderly, as if any movement too hurried would ruin the mood. Their erections pressed next to each other between their bodies, throbbing, but they didn't thrust their hips or move any part of their lower area; they just held each other tightly, hands caressing and mouths savouring each other.

 

          When they finally did move, it was Arthur who guided Merlin to lie down on a smooth rock that was angled into the pool. The height was perfect, and Arthur wasted no time in gently pushing into Merlin, who barely made a sound except a small huff of breath over Arthur's cheek. Merlin widened his stance on the sloping rock and raised his arse higher, and then Arthur was sliding in all the way and Merlin gasped softly into Arthur's ear.

 

          "It's all right," Arthur murmured. He dragged a hand down the side of Merlin's shivering body. Merlin began to pant more heavily when Arthur moved, toes clenching at the smooth surface below, a hand gripping the base of Arthur's skull. Arthur trailed small kisses along Merlin's jaw line to his neck, and then sucked on the skin there below his ear. When Arthur found that one spot in Merlin that made him go crazy, Merlin clamped his legs hard around Arthur, and Arthur could feel them shaking as he held.

 

          Arthur didn't know how long they'd been at it, but he was starting to perspire now. The ends of his hair were damp and his lower back pooled with sweat. Merlin met him thrust for thrust now, their movements more inelegant. Arthur reached down and tugged on Merlin's cock, and it only took a few strokes before he was coming. They kissed as Arthur's own orgasm shook through his body and he emptied himself into Merlin, hips still moving softly even after he'd finished, emitting small whimpers from Merlin. They lay there panting, holding each other, and it took a while for them to find the energy to return to camp.

 

~*~

 

          Sir Gareth and Sir Leon were asleep in their shared tent when they arrived, and Lord Hector was by the fire, poking it with a stick. When they caught sight of one another, Hector gave them a knowing, lewd smirk. Arthur hoped that that look wasn't what he thought it was, because if that sleazy son-of-a-bitch had followed them and had seen…

 

          Arthur shook himself; he dared not to even think it. He led Merlin inside their tent and then they prepared for bed. They didn't strip down completely straightaway; they just lay beside each other in companionable silence, staring up at the canopy. The campfire was still flickering brightly outside, Hector still sitting beside it, so he didn't dare move much or say anything; the idiot's ears still worked fine even if he couldn't speak.

 

          Then Merlin was curling against him without a care, and Arthur found he was relieved to feel him there. He wrapped his arm around Merlin in a possessive and protective manner and laid his cheek atop Merlin's head. Eyes heavy, he found sleep almost instantly, and so had Merlin.

 

          Sometime in the middle of the night, he woke up to find that Merlin decided to lay right on top of him, chest to chest, and his head was jammed between his jaw and shoulder. Merlin was also, to his surprise, naked and hard, and his hips would thrust once in a while as if he were dreaming, which he probably was. Arthur's own cock was answering in kind, wanting some friction as well, and what his mind didn't fully comprehend when he opened his eyes was that the campfire was still going outside, as if it had been restarted. His body and lusts didn't care about the details, only that he had a naked Merlin lying on top of him and that Merlin was rubbing against him. Arthur then grabbed Merlin's hips and pushed up against him, and that was when Merlin's eyes fluttered open.

 

          "Arthur?" Merlin's voice was rough.

 

          "You started it, Merlin," Arthur explained. "Now I'm finishing it."

 

          Merlin didn't complain, and why should he when the friction was so delicious. Unfortunately this time Merlin was having a hard time staying quiet. Arthur kissed him as often as he could, but Merlin kept tossing his head back, moaning Arthur's name and sounding like a whore in a brothel. In one, strong movement, Arthur had Merlin pinned below him and settled between his legs. Merlin was still loose and all Arthur had to do was nudge his opening softly with the head of his dick and he was in. Merlin threw his head back and cried out; the sound went straight to Arthur's groin.

 

They casted a silhouette through the thin fabric of the tent, and there was no mistaking what they were doing. Arthur's bigger body over Merlin, lower half pushing and pulling against Merlin's slighter form beneath. Merlin's legs rose to wrap around Arthur and Arthur lowered his body down; soft kisses were heard, quieting some of Merlin's cries, and suddenly Merlin tilted his head back and gave a sharp gasp; Arthur sped up, then threw his own head back and grunted as his thrusts slowed and then finally stopped. They kissed leisurely afterwards, rolling onto their sides and tangling their limbs.

 

The second time they made love in the tent was right around dawn, when the campfire was nothing more than smoking ashes and the light was filtering orange. This time Merlin was on his hands and knees, and Arthur was behind him as he fucked him hard, wringing out every whimper and cry from Merlin. Arthur's hips and knees were aching, sweat getting into his eyes, and Merlin gripped the bedroll under him, face smashed into it as his body got rocked from Arthur's forceful thrusts. Then Arthur lowered his face down to press his forehead between Merlin's shoulder blades as the first shudder ran through him. He gasped Merlin's name, and then Merlin's toes curled and his body clenched as he reached climax, pulling Arthur with him.

 

          When the sun was more in the sky, Arthur and Merlin slowly dressed and then packed their things. When they exited the tent, Leon and Gareth were waiting patiently outside by their horses, their things already packed. Arthur felt a blush creep into his cheeks when he realized that his knights knew what he and Merlin had just done; Merlin hadn't been quiet, after all. He forced himself into nonchalance while he and Merlin took their tent down, Merlin's cheeks pinking. Arthur nearly laughed at Merlin's embarrassment, but he was too mortified himself to do so. He trusted his knights, and they had seen him holding hands with Merlin, so he tried not to let this exposed information bother him.

 

          "We should hit the borders in a day, sire," said Sir Gareth respectfully.

 

          Arthur nodded his acknowledgement, seated securely on his horse. Merlin was just packing away the last of the camping equipment on his own horse and Lord Hector was already on his, looking too amused for Arthur's liking. He wouldn't put it past the perverted nobleman to have heard him and Merlin, either; and quite possibly he listened in on purpose too.

 

Arthur had taken to wear his blue tunic with the leather and red fabric on the shoulders, along with his leather gloves, and Merlin opted on wearing his red neckerchief instead of his grey one. Arthur wished there was time for Merlin to shine his boots, but seeing how Merlin wasn't technically his manservant anymore it wasn't like he could order him out of good conscious. During this, their last excursion together, they were only lovers, plain and simple. Well, other than the fact that he was a prince and Merlin was a sorcerer.

 

          That was something Arthur hadn't had much time to dwell on. The fact that he was actually okay with it felt a little odd, because he'd been taught most of his life to hate any and all magic no matter what, but Merlin didn't seem to have an evil bone in his body. He could have talked to Merlin about it last night at the waterfall, instead of devouring him like a starved man, but he knew he wouldn't change it for the world. He wouldn't wish to change Merlin for the world either, and that thought made his chest tighten. Gaius was right; he really was in love with Merlin.

 

          Lord Hector led the way again, with Arthur and Merlin behind, close enough to each other that they could touch if they wanted, and the two loyal knights were behind them. He could hear them talking in low voices, but didn't catch a word. He looked back to see that they were riding close to each other as well, heads bent, smiles on their faces, and looking all cozy. Arthur wondered if their main topic was he and Merlin or each other. He found he didn't mind either way.

 

          They stopped for lunch, and this time it was Arthur and Merlin doing the hunting. Arthur felt as if he needed a bit of privacy with Merlin, and hopefully being on a hunt would discourage Hector from following. He doubted the fat nobleman ever hunted for himself, and although he was tempted to let the man starve it would set a terrible example for his knights (not to mention his father would never forgive him for letting a lord of Mercia die of starvation).

 

          "You do realize that we need to talk about _it_ , don't you?" he said the moment they were far enough away from camp.

 

          "It?" said Merlin, crouching low beside him.

 

          "Yes, you know," Arthur waved a hand in exasperation. "IT!"

 

          "Oh!" said Merlin. "You mean what we did in the tent and at the waterfall?"

 

          Arthur sighed. "No, not that, Merlin. Although, why would we need to talk about that? That's expressed through mostly actions and looks, not words."

 

          "Ah," Merlin said, not sounding at all convinced; they both recalled Arthur's declaration of love, but thankfully Merlin didn't bring it up. "So that's not the _it_ that we need to talk about."

 

          "No," said Arthur, lowering his voice because he thought he heard something. "Shut up a second…" He got his crossbow ready and Merlin did as asked and stayed silent. There was a soft rustle, and then a doe appeared in their line of sight. With practiced ease, Arthur aimed and pulled the trigger. The doe screeched in pain, tried to run off, but was too injured and fell to the ground. As they stood, he saw Merlin wince.

 

          "Don't tell me you care about the beast?" Arthur asked him.

 

          "Well, the poor thing was just minding its own business and then…"

 

          "We do have to eat, you realize," said Arthur.

 

          "Yeah, I know. So why can't we fish or hunt for… I dunno… berries?"

 

          "Meat is good for you, Merlin," Arthur sighed as they made their way to the poor, suffering animal. "Don't be such a girl."

 

          "I'm _not_ …" Merlin began, his ears growing red, but then he stopped short at the sight of the deer still twitching on the ground and his eyes took on a sad look.

 

          Arthur sighed again and then put the thing out of its misery. "There. Happy?"

 

          "No," Merlin said. "Anyway, what exactly were you saying before? What is this 'it' that we need to talk about?"

 

          "What do you think I mean?"

 

          Merlin seemed to be deep in thought, and it was a wonder that Merlin could function well enough to have survived as long as he did. He spared Merlin some agony by twiddling his fingers in a gesture that should indicate what he meant.

 

          "Oh, _that_!" said Merlin, finally catching on.

 

          "Yes, that," Arthur said. "You don't expect me to not want to talk about it now that you're leaving."

 

          Merlin looked away, his eyes going glossy, and he prayed that Merlin wouldn't start crying again. He didn't want to get into this kind of emotional ride while they were hunting, and especially while they were lugging a deer carcass through the forest.

 

          "I—I suppose we should… I mean that I should tell you everything that's happened since I arrived at Camelot."

 

          Arthur nodded, pleased. Together, they slowly carried the deer back to camp, and Merlin recounted the times he had used magic to save Arthur and/or Camelot. When Merlin finally finished, the campsite was just in sight, and Arthur understood that yes, he was very much different from his father in this issue. Merlin hadn't been using his magic for anything diabolical at all; he'd been trying to save lives and help others. A lot of things that happened since Merlin arrived now made sense, too.

 

          "Magic is like a weapon—a sword," Merlin explained quickly and quietly as they entered the camp. The two knights were standing a few feet away, and Hector was on the other side of camp tending to his horse. "It's all on how you wield the weapon, not the weapon itself. If the person has bad intentions then they'll use their knowledge and weapon for bad purposes."

 

          "I concur," Arthur whispered. "A sword, or any man-made weapon, isn't evil just because it's being used by a murderer; it's the person doing the evil."

 

          Merlin nodded frantically, happily smiling. "That's exactly it."

 

          Arthur dumped the deer on soft grass and took out his knife to skin it. Leon and Gareth joined him in the work, looking surprised that he was doing it instead of Merlin. Well, Merlin wasn't supposed to be his manservant anymore, and he'd skinned deer plenty of times, so he didn't see what was the fuss. He was glad for the help, though. He thanked his knights, and they shrugged off his thanks as it being their duty to their prince, which made his heart swell in pride. Merlin was stroking the fire and got everything ready to start cooking. That was one thing Merlin wasn't too bad at, so he let him take care of it.

 

          Everyone ate in near silence. It was mostly Leon and Gareth that talked, and Arthur didn't really understand half of what they were saying so he ignored most of it. He was sure it had to do with he and Merlin, or maybe even something personal between the two. Hector kept to himself a little ways from the fire after getting his share of meat, and when Merlin was done he dug out some cheese and berries he'd freshly picked that morning. He offered some cheese, and Arthur took it without a second thought. Merlin looked rather pleased by that, and he also didn't seem to care when Arthur snatched a few berries from him.

 

          They traveled again once everyone finished eating and used the bushes. Arthur calculated that once they'd finally reach Mercia's borders it would be close to dinner. Arthur was just thinking on how he could convince Hector to let them all stop for dinner before having to say his final goodbyes to Merlin when Merlin was suddenly looking ill. They were only two hours away from Mercia now.

 

          "Merlin, what's wrong?" he asked.

 

          "Dunno," Merlin said, curling in upon himself in his saddle. "I don't… feel well."

 

          "Was it the berries?" Arthur said, trying to keep the worry from his voice but was probably failing.

 

          "If it was then you should be feeling ill too," Merlin grumbled. He was starting to shake violently now so Arthur reached a hand over and laid it on Merlin's lower back and rubbed it in a comforting gesture.

 

          "Lord Hector, halt!" he called out. Hector, thankfully, did as asked and turned his horse around in confusion. Everyone stopped their horses.

 

          "What's wrong, sire?" Gareth asked when his horse stopped right behind his.

 

          "Merlin's unwell," Arthur said. "We must stop and see if we can do something."

 

          Hector took out his parchment and started to jot something down quickly. Arthur waited for him to finish with as much patience as he could, keeping a steady hand on Merlin. Then, once finished, Hector handed the parchment over to Arthur to read.

 

          " _'We have experienced physicians in Mercia, they can look him over_.'" Arthur raised his head and gave a not so amused glare at the lord. "I understand what you're saying, but I fear Merlin can't go any further today. We must set up camp."

 

          "I agree," Leon said. "If we don't, Merlin might die of mistreatment."

 

          Hector looked as though he wanted to write an argument to that, but Arthur took his quill away and stashed both it and the parchment into his saddlebag. Hector looked shocked and then irritated.

 

          "I'm sorry, Lord Hector, but majority rules, and I am the prince. I say we make camp now and see what's wrong with Merlin. It wouldn't do you much good if he winds up dead, would it?"

 

          Hector conceded, even though he looked as if he were still not happy. While Gareth and Leon set up camp, with Hector's help this time, Arthur helped Merlin off his horse and then took out a bedroll immediately. The first tent that got put up was going to be Merlin's and his, and he led Merlin carefully into it.

 

          Merlin was sweating as if it was the middle of August, but it was only March. He had Gareth fetch some water and Leon helped in getting Merlin comfortable then got out the medical kit they brought along in case of emergencies. Arthur found a rag in it just when Gareth arrived with some water.

 

          "Luckily we're near the river," he explained when Arthur looked shocked by his quick return.

 

          Arthur wet the cloth, wrung it out, and then placed it on Merlin's forehead. "It was just… so sudden. What could have caused this?"

 

          "Food poisoning?" Sir Leon suggested. "Or possibly the flu. I had a grandmother that got hit with an ague once, and it had been sudden just like this."

 

          "Did she get better?" Arthur asked.

 

          "Yeah, once her fever broke. I'm sure that will happen with Merlin."

 

          Arthur hoped he was right. Losing Merlin to this damned flu, or whatever it was, would be worse than having to give Merlin up to Lord Hector. With Merlin in Mercia at least he'd be alive and he could visit once in a while, but with this… he might never see Merlin again.

 

          Gareth knelt beside Merlin and started to check him over as if he were a physician himself. Finally, with a gruff voice, he said, "Sire, I might have seen this kind of illness before."

 

          Arthur looked up sharply. "Oh?"

 

          "Yes, sire," Gareth said. "I'm no physician so I can't be sure, but I've seen people drop dead from sudden diseases like this without warning. It wasn't pretty."

 

          "Merlin's a fighter," said Arthur, his voice breaking but staying strong. "And he's… he's not your average commoner. He'll get through this."

 

          Gareth only nodded, and Arthur knew he was only humbling him. Still, Arthur knew he was in the right; Merlin had magic, so his body should be able to fight off this disease. It had to be enough. Arthur laid a hand onto the wet cloth on Merlin's forehead and then slowly trailed it down along the side of Merlin's face. Merlin stirred slightly, but stayed asleep.

 

          "If you die on me, Merlin, I'll never forgive you." His words sounded strong and promising, but to his own ears they were weak.

 


	4. Chapter 4

 

Rating: Hard R

Warnings/contents: canon AU, Arthur POV, protective Arthur, slight humor, some violence, angst, minor character death, magic reveal

 

**

 

          Arthur stayed by Merlin's side throughout the night. He got a few winks in, but he kept starting awake from either some odd noise outside or a nightmare in which Merlin actually died thanks to him. He'd had to put an ear to Merlin's chest just to make sure his heart was still beating. He would then wipe off Merlin's face and neck with a cool cloth and proceed to watch over him.

 

          A couple times during the night, Merlin had moved his head slightly and muttered something Arthur couldn't understand. Merlin's right hand would also twitch every now and then as if he was dreaming he was fighting or maybe caressing something. Arthur wondered if he was dreaming of him, of them wandering the woods and hunting, or if they were back at Camelot and in his chambers lying in bed together. Arthur wished he knew, then he could imagine doing the same as if he were walking alongside Merlin in his dreams.

 

          Sir Gareth, who was possibly the most sensitive if not sweetest knight he'd ever known, had tried convincing him to let him take over watching Merlin, but Arthur refused. Gareth still stayed in the tent on the other side of Merlin, just in case, and that was when Arthur's body surrendered into a more restful sleep, knowing someone else was looking after Merlin dutifully.

 

          The next time Arthur awoke it was because he heard Merlin murmur his name in his sleep. Arthur was so excited when he thought Merlin had woken up, leaning over Merlin and letting him know he was there for him and to not give up. But Merlin slept on, his eyes moving rapidly behind his eyelids. That was usually a good sign. Arthur then re-wet the cloth and dabbed Merlin's forehead, hoping that would provoke Merlin to come back to the land of consciousness.

 

          When dawn broke, Arthur was startled awake by some commotion outside. He ran out, grabbing his sword on the way, to see that Leon had apprehended what looked to be a young scout. The scout was bearing Mercia's colours.

 

          "Found this stripling in a nearby tree, sire," Leon said, keeping a tight hold on the young boy's arm. The boy was glaring up at him defiantly, his chin raised.

 

          "He's obviously a brave one," said Arthur. "Can you explain yourself, boy?"

 

          "My king sent me," the brave scout replied. "He'd received a letter from Lord Hector saying that he should've arrived in two days, but it seems to have taken longer so he wanted me to keep a lookout for him."

 

          "I don't think you're telling us the entire truth," Arthur said, trying to look intimidating as he hovered over the boy. It didn't seem to be working because the boy was keeping tight-lipped.

 

          "Perhaps we should coax it out of him, sire?" said Leon, looking almost murderous.

 

          Arthur thought on that a bit. He never really approved of torture, knowing that usually the one being tortured didn't always tell the truth under such conditions, willing to say almost anything in order for the pain to stop. He shook his head as officially as he could.

 

          "No, Sir Leon, I don't think that's necessary. No need to give Mercia's king a reason to start a war."

 

          "Where is Lord Hector?" the scout asked.

 

          "Good question," said Arthur, and then he looked up at his loyal knight. "Sir Leon?"

 

          "Um, last I saw he was still sleeping. Should I rouse him, sire?"

 

          "No, let him sleep. The less aggravation we have today the better. I suppose since the boy hasn't been sent here to hurt us, we should let him go. I need to see to Merlin." Arthur turned to do just that.

 

          "Merlin?" said the scout suddenly, stopping Arthur in his tracks. "You mean Lord Hector's new manservant?"

 

          Arthur rounded on him, eyes flashing in warning. "Merlin is still _my_ …" He took a deep breath, realizing that what he was about to say wasn't true. Merlin really wasn't his anymore; once they were over Mercia's borders he would belong to Hector. At the moment, Merlin was no one's, which Arthur actually found as a relief. "Merlin is his own man right now, he belongs to no one."

 

          "Not for long," the scout smirked. Arthur was so tempted to backhand the brat, but he kept his temper in check.

 

          Leon noticed the look on Arthur's face, so he shook the boy hard, getting a squeak out of him. "Don't talk to Prince Arthur that way or I'll beat you into a pulp, boy!"

 

          "Now, Sir Leon, no need to get unnecessarily rough with the lad. We don't need him crying all over our armor."

 

          Leon laughed at that, and the scout frowned, finally looking properly chastised.

 

          Arthur finally looked the boy in the eye. "Look, Merlin had fallen ill, this is why we've taken longer than planned. You go back to your king and let him know so he doesn't send out more men thinking we'd done something to Lord Hector. Can you do that?"

 

          After a moment, the scout agreed. Once the Mercia scout had been released into the wild, Arthur watching the boy run off, Arthur suddenly wished he had a sling with a rock already loaded because then he could target practice on the pipsqueak. As it was, he did not, so he settled for going back into Merlin's tent, sheathing his sword along the way.

 

          There was something not quite right about the Mercian scout, but Arthur had more important things to deal with.

 

          The moment he walked into the tent, Gareth was standing over Merlin looking terrified. Arthur opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, but noticed straightaway. Merlin had raised his right hand, palm side up, and his fingertips were glowing an eerie blue. When Arthur came closer, his ears finally registered Merlin's soft voice whispering something in what sounded like gibberish. Gareth was obviously frightened to discover that Merlin was a sorcerer, so to keep him from doing something rash, Arthur gently crouched down at Merlin's side and laid a hand over the cloth on Merlin's forehead. It had gone completely dry, so he took it off and replaced it with his hand.

 

          "Wha—what's he doing?" Gareth whispered in awe and horror.

 

          "Your guess is as good as mine," said Arthur. Then, before he could say more or do anything, Merlin lowered his hand onto the bedroll again and stopped speaking. Merlin stayed eerily quiet after that; only the soft movements of his rising and falling chest showed that he was still alive.

 

          "He's a—a…" Gareth stuttered.

 

          "A sorcerer," Arthur finished for his knight. "Yes."

 

          "You knew?" Gareth gasped, his eyes looking scarily wild and full of panic. "Sire," he hastily added.

 

          "I figured it out a few days ago," Arthur answered easily. He stood from his crouch. "And I must ask, Sir Gareth, for your loyalty and trust, and not say a word of this to my father."

 

          "But—but, my Prince, that would be treason!"

 

          Arthur narrowed his eyes. "It isn't treason against _me_. I know that I'm asking you to risk a lot, but so am I in keeping Merlin's magic a secret. I promise I will explain everything to you later; you're one of my most loyal and trusted knights, along with Sir Leon, so I ask you give me—and Merlin—the benefit of the doubt. Are you confused in your fealty?"

 

          "Of course not, sire!" Sir Gareth exclaimed, snapping to attention. "I am loyal to you, but also to the king—"

 

          "And Camelot?" Arthur lifted an eyebrow.

 

          "Oh, without any doubt, sire!"

 

          "Then you will only hope to gain by trusting in your everlasting loyalty to me. I can only swear, at this moment, that when I am king things will be different, but not unjust."

 

          Gareth bowed low to Arthur in acknowledgement and allegiance. "I swear, then, to serve you till the bitter end, sire."

 

          "Good," said Arthur, and then he smiled, and Gareth smiled back. He looked back down at Merlin, who had sighed in his sleep and murmured something. "I wish I could figure out some way to keep Merlin in my service; I had hoped to make him my Court Sorcerer once I am King."

 

          "I'm sure that—" Gareth began, but then there was a sudden shout, and then Leon's voice calling:

 

          "Sire, sire! Come quick!"

 

          Arthur and Gareth ran out of the tent. The sight that greeted them was surprising and Arthur felt a smidgeon of worry at the sight.

 

          The scout they had released scant minutes ago was dragging himself back to camp, looking as if he'd been trampled by a stampede of horses. His left arm lie limp at his side and his right hand was clutching his ribs. Leon and Gareth rushed to the boy's side to aid him, but the boy suddenly went limp in their arms, barely able to hold himself on his own two feet anymore.

 

          "Prince… Prince Arthur…" the boy gasped. Arthur jogged to him.

 

          "What is it, lad? What happened?" Arthur asked.

 

          "Wind… horrible, dark wind… spinning and foreboding… threw me off my path… couldn't go on…"

 

Then the boy suddenly passed out. Gareth and Leon caught him easily.

 

          "Put him in the tent with Merlin," Arthur ordered. "Then do what you can for him."

 

          "Yes, sire," said the two knights, and did as told immediately.

 

          Arthur sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Merlin, you idiot," he whispered.

 

~*~

 

          It was almost dinnertime by the time Merlin had finally opened his eyes. Gareth was watching over him during the time, after Arthur had explained all about Merlin to him, and the moment he noticed Merlin was awake he rushed out of the tent to inform Arthur. Arthur had been getting ready to hunt when Gareth told him, but Arthur dropped everything and went to Merlin's side.

 

          "Merlin, how are you feeling?" Arthur asked softly, gently wiping his forehead with the cool rag.

 

          "Like hell," Merlin replied hoarsely. "Could I have some water, please?"

 

          Arthur helped Merlin to sit up and drink some water. He was glad to see that Merlin didn't look as sickly as he had a few hours ago. Arthur could also tell that Merlin's fever was broken, so that was a huge relief. The Mercian scout they had put in the tent with him was still asleep, his broken arm having been set and put in a sling and his ribs bandaged.

 

          "How long have I been out?" Merlin asked after lying back down.

 

          "Since yesterday afternoon," Arthur said, "and it's almost dinnertime now."

 

          "You gave us all quite a scare," Gareth said gently. "We thought you weren't going to make it."

 

          "Did I… do anything in my sleep?" Merlin asked, looking apprehensive.

 

          Arthur and Gareth looked at each other over Merlin. Gareth looked almost scared to say aloud what had transpired a few hours ago, so Arthur volunteered to tell Merlin. And after he finished telling Merlin, he pointed over at the scout at the other side of the pavilion. Merlin suddenly scowled and looked irritated.

 

          "It's him!" Merlin hissed.

 

          "You know him?" said Arthur, shocked.

 

          "Yes," Merlin growled, and then he looked back up into Arthur's face. "He was going to cause a war."

 

          Arthur and Gareth raised their eyes to stare at each other in shock and disbelief, and then over to the young scout who was still out cold.

 

          "That boy?" said Gareth. "But why…?"

 

          "His king. He was using the scout to spy on us, on you and Lord Hector, and then use whatever knowledge he found as an excuse to go to war with Camelot."

 

          "Bastard," Arthur growled, but he wasn't sure if he were calling the scout that or Mercia's king. Then the main issue came back to the forefront of his mind. "So you _were_ the one that caused that windstorm."

 

          Merlin lay his head back on the pillow, swallowing hard and looking regretful. "Yeah. I didn't mean to actually… I mean, I had to stop him one way or other, to protect you and your honor," then Merlin blushed softly. "Er, Sire."

 

          Arthur gently swept away the strands of hair from Merlin's eyes. "I understand. You still seem a bit weak, so you should rest. Try not to worry about me now; you've done your duty." Arthur then leaned down and kissed Merlin's forehead. He had never shown such emotion as this in front of any of his knights before, but it just seemed like such a natural thing to do.

 

          Merlin smiled lazily at Arthur, eyes full of love and devotion.

 

          "I see what you mean now, sire," Gareth said softly once Merlin had fallen asleep again. "He really is worth keeping."

 

          "That he is, my friend," Arthur said. "He is the other half of my soul."

 

**

 

          Three hours later, after everyone had eaten, including Merlin and the Mercia scout—whose name they discovered was Ismael—they packed their things and began to head out again. Although Arthur wasn't sure if he could trust Lord Hector much, he knew he still had a duty to his king and had to do as he'd promised: escorting Lord Hector and Merlin safely to Mercia.

 

          Gareth and Leon (after Leon had been told about Merlin too) were trying to help their prince in figuring out how they could get Merlin back into his service, and although Arthur was grateful for his knights' loyalty and love, he knew that nothing save dying would convince Hector to give Merlin up.

 

          That was when it happened: a sudden ambush.

 

          Merlin was still relatively weak from the fever he'd had, and he knew that Merlin wasted even more of his energy using magic while unconscious, so when the bandits had them surrounded (on foot and horseback) his first reaction had been to put an arm securely around Merlin's middle and draw his sword in a very threatening, princely manner.

 

          "Christ Almighty!" came a sudden horrified voice, and all heads turned when they realized that it had been Lord Hector. "Er, I mean, _cheese_ and peanuts!" he quickly corrected once he realized he'd swore out loud.

 

          "Damn it, I hoped he'd stay silent a while longer," Arthur huffed, getting a slightly amused chuckle out of Merlin.

 

          "We are at Mercia's borders," Merlin explained quickly, but there wasn't much time to dwell on it; the bandits were closing in on them.

 

          "Sir Gareth," Arthur ordered, reluctantly releasing his sorcerer. "Look after Merlin!" He then brought his horse around to fight off the two bandits that tried to attack him from behind on horses, steel clashing. Gareth did as told, pulling Merlin's horse closer to his while he fended off a few other attackers. Leon had the young scout on his horse and tried to defend them both from one other bandit who almost shot Ismael with an arrow; it had gone sailing over their heads.

 

          After defeating the two novice bandits on their horses, Arthur stuck another bandit straight through his heart when he galloped by, and he didn't feel victory in his killing at all. The bandit had been young, and he didn't know if the boy had been driven to this way of life or if he'd freely chosen it.

 

          "I order you to leave us alone!" Lord Hector bellowed. "By order of my king, Edg—"

 

But he didn't get a chance to finish his sentence; a bandit shot Hector in the back with his crossbow. Arthur had just clashed swords with one other bandit before cutting into the man's shoulder when it happened, and he turned his head from the sudden noise Hector made when he'd been hit.

 

          "Lord Hector," Arthur couldn't stop himself from exclaiming in shock. The Mercia lord slumped in his saddle sideways, his horse still turning in a circle in confusion, before his heavy body slid off and he landed on his neck. The look and sound was not pretty, and Arthur cringed.

 

          "Lord Hector!" Ismael gasped.

 

          Leon parried another arrow that had been aimed at them, and then kicked his horse into a steady gallop to swing at the bandit. He swiped his sword up the length of the bandit's spine, and the bandit fell into a dead heap.

 

          Arthur turned his horse around from the sound of Gareth fighting off three other bandits who'd been trying to pull him off his horse. One was even trying to swing his knife at Merlin, but Merlin moved his leg out of the way just in time and then kicked at the bandit, but it was a weak kick and it was slow enough that the bandit got a good swipe at his leg.

 

          Merlin cried out and turned his horse around to face the bandit.

 

          "Merlin!" Arthur cried and then had to block another bandit's sword with his own when he tried going to Merlin's rescue. Gareth moved swiftly to try helping Merlin, but he was attacked from behind by another bandit who stuck a knife into his thigh. Gareth cried out in pain, blood oozing out. He rounded his horse into a gallop to help, his own sword stained with the blood of bandits. "Sir Gareth!"

 

          But then everything seemed to have slowed down the moment Arthur saw Merlin's eyes glow gold. Merlin had a hand raised, the seriousness and determination on his face almost frightening, and the wind around them picked up. Sudden dark, gray clouds formed in the sky, rolling and crashing, and there was a loud crash of thunder. The little hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as electricity crackled through the air, and then the rain came down in heavy sheets, so heavy that it became almost impossible to see properly. That was when many bolts of lightning struck the last of the bandits down.

 

          The moment it was over, Merlin slumped tiredly in his saddle, wet and shivering as he held onto his horse's neck for dear life. Arthur went to him, his leather and clothing sticking wetly to his body and his hair plastered on his head. The rain slowly began to let up.

 

          "Merlin," Arthur said, worry and fear laced within his voice. "Are you all right?"

 

          Merlin gave him a small smile before closing his eyes. "Arthur. You're alive…"

 

          "Of course I am, you idiot," Arthur replied, feeling anger return hotly once his fears were at rest. "But you've drained yourself again!"

 

          Merlin smiled warmly, eyes still closed. "Just… doing my duties… for my king…"

 

          "Merlin…" Arthur whispered, feeling a little flushed from such loyalty to slip out of Merlin's mouth, even though he already knew just how loyal Merlin was to him.

 

He placed a steady hand onto Merlin's back to make sure he stayed on his horse as he called out for Leon to tend to Gareth's wound. He then heard sobbing and looked over to see the scout, Ismael, kneeling beside Lord Hector's body and weeping into his hands. He didn't know what to say to the young man, and he wasn't sure if words would do anything to quell Ismael's sorrow. He hadn't liked Lord Hector much, but from just this scene he had a feeling that Hector did have some who were loyal to him, and had possibly loved him.

 

          "We must head back to Camelot," Arthur commanded immediately, not letting indecision war for long in him. "Before we're attacked again. It's too dangerous to stay here much longer."

 

          "But what of my Lord?" Ismael cried. "My lord is now dead! What do I tell my king?"

 

          "The truth," said Arthur softly. "Explain what had transpired with the bandits, and also explain that Merlin is mine once again and in my service. He is _not_ to live in Mercia."

 

          "But—but you can't take him back," Ismael stuttered bravely. "He's a sorcerer; he'll get burned at the stake!"

 

          "That is for me to worry about, not you," said Arthur. "You are to deal with Lord Hector's body, I will deal with Merlin."

 

          The young scout didn't look any happier, but he didn't argue either. Arthur was glad; he didn't want to make one of his knights go to the Mercia king with the news; Ismael would be better qualified for it.

 

          After making their way back to their old campsite and setting camp up again (it took longer with just him and Leon able to do it all), Arthur was back to sitting at Merlin's side while Merlin rested, now sporting a bandage around his injured leg. Leon was in his own tent as he tended to Gareth. Why was it almost always the gentle-souled ones that would get the brunt of a fight?

 

          "You going to report me to the king?" Merlin asked softly, eyes boring deep into his.

 

          "Of course not," said Arthur immediately. "And neither will Sir Gareth and Sir Leon. They've given me their oaths that they will not speak a word."

 

          "Isn't that treason?" Merlin asked, voice a little amused. Arthur pursed his lips into a thin line; he knew that he was bordering on treason, but he'd already made his decision the minute he'd discovered Merlin to have magic.

 

          "You should talk, Merlin," Arthur answered instead of voicing aloud a big, fat 'yes'. "You committed treason the moment you set foot in Camelot."

 

          Merlin's eyes twinkled. "What can I say? I'm a rebel."

 

          "No, what you are is a loyal, loving idiot," said Arthur, voice full of that very love and dedication. "And now, once again, my manservant."

 

          Merlin let out a heavy sigh, looking somewhat put upon. "Great. Back to mucking out your stables and cleaning your chamber pot."

 

          Arthur smirked as he held in a laugh, and ruffled Merlin's drying hair. "You find joy in it, don't deny it."

 

**

 

          When they finally arrived back at Camelot three days later, Arthur had to report to his father immediately. He knew that the king would be worried since they had taken a lot longer returning; plus, he was sure that Father saw that Merlin was still with them when they'd entered the castle gates.

 

          Gareth and Merlin were taken to Gaius right when they had dismounted and handed over their horses to the stable hands, and Leon went with in case he was needed, letting Gareth use him as a crutch. Arthur was still slightly exhausted from the trip, but he knew he couldn't put off seeing his father. He quickly passed the guards as he walked up the steps and made a beeline for the throne room.

 

          He told his father everything he could while keeping Merlin's magic a secret. Uther didn't look pleased by the death of Lord Hector, but he let Arthur know that he was glad to see the lively spark back in his son's eyes.

 

          "Merlin makes you happy, I can tell," he said, looking almost discomforted. "But do not forget your duty to the throne; you'll need an heir one day."

 

          "I know, father," Arthur said loyally. "I'm sure Merlin will understand. He might even help me in finding a queen."

 

          Uther had raised an eyebrow at that, almost amused, and then he dismissed Arthur. Thankful for the early dismissal, Arthur smiled as he bowed and went straight for the court physician's chambers.

 

          There he got a sudden surprise.

 

          "Hunith, what a pleasure to see you," he said.

 

          "Sire," she said, and curtsied. "Merlin was just telling me of your adventure together. I couldn't be any prouder of the both of you, and I'm so happy to hear of the happiness you two have found."

 

          Arthur swallowed hard, his cheeks flushing a bright red. He turned accusing eyes on Merlin, who was staring back at him innocently and with a hopeful grin.

 

          "You told your mother…" Arthur started.

 

          "I thought she should know," said Merlin unapologetically. "Besides, I had to tell her; otherwise, she wouldn't understand what I was explaining… you know, about what happened the past few days…" Merlin's blush looked nicer on him, Arthur noticed.

 

          "Honestly, Merlin!" he huffed.

 

          Gaius and Hunith chuckled, which didn't help their blushes one iota.

 

          Arthur joined them in the middle of the room where Merlin had been lying on the medical cot and Gaius putting the finishing touches on Merlin's wound, which actually wasn't as serious as they all feared. Merlin was staring up at him, eyes shining and smile wide, and it caused Arthur to smile grudgingly. He would kiss the idiot if they were alone. As it stood, he would have to keep pining for the touch of those lips on his.

 

          "I was sure you'd be happiest here, Merlin," Hunith was saying as she bent over a washing bucket full of Merlin's dirty, bloodstained breeches, scrubbing away. "But I didn't expect you'd find yourself a prince."

 

          Arthur swallowed his embarrassment down and looked away, trying to keep his nonchalance, and Merlin's entire face went red.

 

          "Mother, please…" Merlin murmured.

 

          "But I can't help but be curious," she continued as if she hadn't heard her son's plead. "Are you the dominant or submissive partner?"

 

          "MUM!" Merlin gasped in horrified shock, his face growing redder by the second. It was rather amusing, and Arthur couldn't help laughing hysterically. Merlin went from horrified to annoyed in that second and narrowed his eyes at him. "Arthur!"

 

          Hunith and Gaius laughed this time, and poor Merlin chose to bury his face in his hands and wait for the mortifying subject to change. But Arthur was still in such a good mood, having them both return to Camelot relatively safe and still together, that he couldn't help replying to Hunith:

 

          "No prince has ever bent over for a servant, I can assure you of that, Hunith."

 

          "I'm going to KILL you, Arthur!" Merlin bemoaned.

 

          "Now is that any way to speak to your prince, Merlin?" Arthur reminded.

 

          "Maybe not," Merlin said, taking his hands away from his face to glare at Arthur again. "But that's the way I speak to my lover."

 

          "Blasphemy," Arthur growled. "You best show me more respect in front of others, Merlin."

 

          "I do respect you, Sire," Merlin's eyes suddenly gleamed with mirth. "Just like I respect your imperial excrement."

 

          "Merlin!" Arthur gaped.

 

          "Should I bow humbly while I empty the royal commode next time?" Merlin gave him a cheeky grin. Gaius and Hunith continued to laugh behind their hands.

 

          Arthur shook a warning finger at him. "Don't make me put you in the stocks, Merlin. I won't tolerate much of your cheek now that we're back at Camelot and you being my manservant again."

 

          Merlin didn't look perturbed by the threat, but his smile softened. "You know I'm only teasing you, Arthur. Should I tell you, in _words_ , just how much I love you?"

 

          The little bastard, Arthur huffed to himself. "We've talked about that; we don't have to…"

 

          Hunith gave them a happy smile, though, eyes gleaming. "How much do you love the prince, Merlin?"

 

          "Don't answer that, if you know what's good for you," Arthur threatened.

 

          With a huge grin, Merlin intoned: "Mine eyes have never gazed on such fair beauty; such tender, full lips—"

 

          "Merlin, I'm warning you—"

 

          "—such golden hair and sapphire eyes that shine in the moonlight—"

 

          Arthur shut Merlin up by putting his head into a headlock, his face dangerously close to Merlin's. He wasn't putting too much pressure around Merlin's neck, Merlin's chin smooshed in the crook of Arthur's elbow, but it had stilled Merlin from sprouting off more nauseating poetry.

 

          While Merlin panted and grunted as he tried, in vain, to struggle out of his grip, Arthur murmured into his ear: "I'll show you just how much I love you later tonight, but only if you behave yourself."

 

          Gaius was shaking his head from their behavior and Hunith continued washing Merlin's breeches with a knowing smile on her face.

 

          "Yes, sire," Merlin gasped out.

 

          "Good boy," Arthur said normally and released Merlin from his grip.

 

          Merlin sighed, laying his head back onto the cot. "You're such a prat."

 

          "Just for that I'll expect you to bring my breakfast bright and early tomorrow, and then you're getting suited up as my practice dummy. The next tournament is starting again soon, and I need to brush up on my techniques."

 

          "As I said," Merlin grumbled. "A real prat."

 

          Arthur couldn't get properly annoyed with Merlin, and he was sure Merlin knew that, now. He gently brushed a few fingers through Merlin's mussed up hair as they stared at each other, before leaving the room. He was to eat with his father tonight, and he couldn't be late.

 

~*~

 

          Morgana was there for dinner, and the looks she kept throwing his way were bordering on annoying. His glares were being met with knowing smiles and raised eyebrows. It made him wish she'd stayed oblivious when it came to his feelings for Merlin.

 

          "We've been having some troubles with mice in the castle lately, Arthur," said Uther. "I've ordered all servants during your absence to take care of the problem. You should let Merlin know about it as well."

 

          "Yes, Father," Arthur replied automatically.

 

          "It wouldn't do to have them scurrying around and getting into the granary and chewing up the woodwork." Arthur was pretty sure his father meant the mice and not the servants.

 

          He informed Merlin about the mouse trouble while getting ready for bed. It wasn't right for a servant to share a bed with his master, but Arthur wanted to stay close to Merlin again tonight like he'd got used to these past few nights. He felt better having him close too, but he wasn't about to tell Merlin that.

 

          "I'll get on it," Merlin promised as he curled against Arthur's side. Arthur tightened his hold around Merlin as he felt the pull of sleep.

 

          "Don't forget about… tomorrow morning," he said before sleep claimed him.

 

          Merlin didn't forget. He was up and out of bed before Arthur woke, and the smell of a warm breakfast tickled his senses and opened his eyes.

 

          "What is that smell?" Arthur asked as he slowly sat up in bed, hair messy.

 

          "Hot griddlecakes, maple syrup, and toast with lemon custard," Merlin answered easily. "Oh, and milk."

 

          "Well whatever it is it smells heavenly." Arthur got out of bed to eat that scrumptious smelling breakfast before getting dressed. He had been right; it was delicious. "I don't want to know how you came about this food either, so don't tell me." He was almost afraid to hear of Merlin using magic in order to get something special for him.

 

          Merlin grinned, rocking and back forth on his heels, looking very pleased with himself. "Yes, sire."

 

          "And don't forget…" he said around a mouthful of hotcakes, "you're my practice dummy this morning. I have to be in tiptop shape for the tourney."

 

          "Doesn't the fact that I'm, um, more than just a servant grant me any favours? Like, say, not getting battered by you?"

 

          "I can't do this with any other servant, Merlin," Arthur sighed, exasperated. "All the others just fall over with one blow and don't get back up again."

 

          "I know the feeling," Merlin grumbled.

 

          "You, on the other hand, keep getting up again and again until I'm done practicing. That is real loyalty and devotion, I have to say." Arthur grinned.

 

          "It's more like stubbornness," Merlin admitted softly, cheeks pinking.

 

          "Still, you're the better servant, even if you are insubordinate most of the time. So, after breakfast, we're getting suited up and armed. Any questions?"

 

          "Yeah. What happens if you break me? Do you get a new manservant and lover?"

 

          "That was a rhetorical question, Merlin, not a time for you to be bringing up idiotic 'what ifs'." Arthur polished off the rest of his breakfast, downing it with milk. "And don't forget about the mouse problem. I heard the little bastard scurrying and scratching last night; it's hard enough for me to sleep with you snoring in my ear."

 

          "I do not snore," Merlin argued as he cleared away the dishes.

 

          "You do," Arthur said, enjoying watching Merlin being domestic. "Great, enormous rumblings that nearly shook me out of bed. Now get cracking so I can practice."

 

~*~

 

          Arthur had to admit that Merlin was getting a lot better. The more he practiced fighting with him, the longer Merlin had lasted against him. Arthur still got the upper hand, of course, but he had to admit that Merlin's blocking skills were getting better. It only took another hour more than last time for their session to end, and Arthur couldn't help feeling rather pleased by it.

 

          Before they reached the stairs that led to Gaius' chambers, Arthur had dragged a tired and worn out Merlin in a dark alcove and kissed him ravenously. This was something else he couldn't do with any other servant, and doing any kind of fighting – be it practice or life-threatening – usually got his blood boiling and the need to use that extended, frustrating energy would normally manifest itself to a rigorous hand job or a quick, non-penetrating love affair with one of the maids (before he had Merlin as a lover). Merlin's own energy seemed to have come back somewhat from the feel of their lips and tongues meshing and he pressed his hard bulge against Merlin's thigh, panting harshly. He was so close, he could feel it…

 

          "Your Highness?" gasped a maid, and Arthur and Merlin froze in horror.

 

          "What?" Arthur snapped, so frustrated he was getting interrupted.

 

          "I humbly apologize, sire," she whispered, her cheeks red. "But the king is asking for your presence." She curtsied quickly before fleeing.

 

          Merlin moaned in annoyance, and Arthur couldn't help agreeing with that sentiment.

 

          "Great," Merlin groused. "Cock-blocked by the king."

 

          Arthur couldn't help chuckling at that as he slowly peeled away from his manservant. "While I'm with my father, try doing something about that mouse in my chambers."

 

          The meeting with his father was long and boring matters of estate, and he was more irritated than anything that he hadn't been able to get off beforehand. He kept shifting in his seat as thoughts of Merlin would pop into his mind once in a while. If his father noticed at all, he was ignoring it, and he was glad because it would be rather embarrassing to explain.

 

          Finally, after more than two hours of the boring political crap, he returned to his chambers to see Merlin standing in the middle of the room with a very goofy smile on his face (and washed and wearing clean clothing, as well), with hands behind his back. Arthur raised an eyebrow at him.

 

          "All right, what did you do now?" he asked, looking around the room. "You didn't cook the mouse for me to eat, did you?"

 

          Merlin shook his head, that goofy smile still plastered on and eyes looking a lot less tired than when he left him to see his father. "Nope."

 

          "What then?"

 

          "Well, I had an idea—"

 

          "God help us."

 

          "—And I figured that, if I killed all the mice in the castle alone, the king might get suspicious, so I went down to the town to find something material to help with the problem."

 

          When Merlin continued to just stand there and grin, Arthur said impatiently, "Well, what did you find?"

 

          Merlin quickly produced what had been behind his back with a loud, "Tada!"

 

          Arthur's eyes widened, which was very understandable. "You bought a… kitten?" he gaped.

 

          The little black kitten mewed adorably.

 

          "Yeah, and she's yours," said Merlin, still smiling, and then he stepped forward to place the little fur ball into his chest. The kitten hung onto his tunic with her little claws and mewed up at him.

 

          "She's… mine?" Arthur really didn't know what to say. "Er, Merlin…"

 

          "Look at that, she likes you!" Merlin exclaimed.

 

          "Of course she does, she's just a baby," Arthur grumbled as he pulled the kitten off him, but it wasn't as easy as he thought it would be; her little claws were catching on his shirt. "Merlin, really, we shouldn't have cats in the castle. You do know that they pee on everything, not to mention what would happen if one of my dogs saw her?"

 

          "It's all taken care of," Merlin said, producing a few items from a bag. "I got this box here which I will fill with sand, and she can do her business in it, and I also got her a few padded things that she can sharpen her claws on. And just think, she can help get rid of our rodent problem while being a loving companion."

 

          "Er, Merlin…" Arthur said slowly, still not sure how to handle this odd situation. "My father doesn't really like cats," he finally had to say. "He considers them a sorcerer's pet. If he sees me with it…"

 

          "Just explain that it's to help eradicate the mouse problem," said Merlin. "He'd understand, wouldn't he?"

 

          "Perhaps, but still…" Arthur tried to think of another excuse just as the kitten mewed up at him again, eyes big and green. He stared at her for a while, and as the kitten started to rumble in a sweet way, it was getting harder and harder to dismiss her. "Well," he finally said, "if she proves to be a good asset to the royal household, then I see nothing wrong with keeping her."

 

          "I knew you'd like her!" Merlin exclaimed happily. "Now, what should her name be?"

 

          "I don't know, you name her," said Arthur, setting the kitten down on the table. The kitten sniffed around as she explored her new place, mewing and purring.

 

          "But she's your kitten," Merlin explained. "You should be the one to name her."

 

          "If I name her I might get too attached to her."

 

          "But you're already attached to her," grinned Merlin.

 

          Arthur narrowed his eyes at his manservant. Damn Merlin, he was right, but he didn't want to admit it!

 

          "Oh, look at the little darling!" screeched Morgana from the doorway. Arthur turned his glare on her.

 

          "You like her so much, you keep her," Arthur retorted automatically.

 

          "You mean she isn't yours, Arthur?" said Morgana, petting the jet-black kitten and the kitten purred lovingly, head-butting her hand.

 

          "She is," said Merlin. "He just doesn't want to get attached to an animal that doesn't bark or slobber everywhere."

 

          Arthur huffed and crossed his arms. "Father will disapprove."

 

          "You leave him to me," said Morgana with a glint in her eyes. Arthur sighed and uncrossed his arms, watching as the kitten tried to climb up Morgana's dress from the table. Morgana didn't seem to care and picked the kitten up to cradle against her neck. Knowing Morgana, she'd get the king to agree to have a cat in the castle.

 

          "So, what's her name?" Morgana asked.

 

          Arthur shrugged. "Dunno yet."

 

          "Don't give her one of those fluffy type of names," said Morgana. "She should have a good, strong name fit for royalty."

 

          "How about Princess, then?" he said.

 

          "No, that's too fluffy, Arthur," said Morgana.

 

          "Then you think of something!" he snapped.

 

          "Fine, I will," she snapped back. "How about…" She studied the kitten for a while, as if gazing into the kitten's mind, and then finally said, "Imelda."

 

          The kitten mewed at Morgana as if she had just guessed the correct name.

 

          "She likes it," Merlin said.

 

          Arthur sighed. He knew a battle was lost when he saw it, so he gave in. "Okay, fine. We'll keep her and name her Imelda."

 

          "Good!" said Morgana, and then she left the room with the kitten. "Off to get the king to agree to keep her. See you in a bit."

 

          Merlin was grinning like a loon and Arthur had to admit that he was happy seeing Merlin so happy.

 

          "That fur ball better be worth the headache," Arthur had to warn his manservant, because he was damned if he were going to show any liking to having a kitten around.

 

**

 

          In the middle of the night, while Arthur was cuddling close to Merlin after they had a wild bout of love making, the kitten had crawled up onto the bed and laid herself on the pillow beside Arthur's head. He awoke to the sound of her little motor rumbling against his skull. It was harder for him to be annoyed than he thought, and he gently stroked the kitten until he fell back asleep.

 

          The third night after adopting her, just before he began to get Merlin's breeches off so he could get at that lovely, long cock, she had leapt onto the bed with a small rodent in her jaws. She was obviously a fast learner, and Arthur liked that. He praised her whole-heartedly as he stroked her, his other hand busy on Merlin's erection.

 

          A month after adopting Imelda, she had taken care of almost half of the mouse population in the castle and the servants had taken care of the rest. The king was pleased and had to admit that maybe not all cats were evil pets for sorcerers.

 

Then one day, when a particular royal family from another kingdom came over during the summer feast, their youngest son saw Imelda and chased her with a stick. Arthur saw red.

 

          "Oi!" he bellowed. "Leave my kitten alone!"

 

 

The End!

 


End file.
